


Appellation

by bagheerita



Series: my name forevermore [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Distrust, Female Character of Color, Gen, Greek mythology crash course for aliens, Interspecies Friendship, Made Up Science, Trust, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Wraith politics, Wraith-human interactions, violence/character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 19:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16393547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagheerita/pseuds/bagheerita
Summary: Stuck moving at sublight speeds, theDaedalus'engineering section kills some time by helping the Wraith Technician select a name.Encountering a hive presents an opportunity to see if there are other Wraith who are interested in seeing humans as something more than they have previously.And finally returning to Atlantis presents everyone with an opportunity to confront and reassess their beliefs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place mostly concurrent to chapters 24-26 or so of "Nemo."

 

In the Commander's absence the Wraith finds himself the object of much scrutiny by the humans of the _Daedalus_.

It is primarily indirect, as most of them will not meet his eyes. But they watch him. Constantly. They look away when he catches them at their staring; the soldiers just stare through him instead, refusing to look _at_ him. Their overall disinclination to confront is irritating. Wraith are usually much more direct, though he can play games of subtlety as well; he is, perhaps, used to different rules, and he wonders at how humans manage communication _at all_ without the ability to touch minds.

His battle with Carter for control of the ship had raised his estimation of these New Lanteans. So far no other has demonstrated comparable skills. He’s not certain what the Commander meant by this alliance, but he finds it difficult to accept that Carter is _such_ an anomaly as to be the only worthwhile creature in the entirety of these humans’ galaxy and so he watches them, seeking something that will prove he was not foolish to forsake a faithless queen and cast his lot in with some unknown Wraith who makes allies of strange humans.

 

 

* * *

 

In her office, Carter regards him, her gaze level. "I'm going to have a guard follow you around," she says. "It's for your protection really, so no one tries to start something."

He bows his head in acceptance. He understands that it is also because she does not trust him.

"I would like you to spend most of your time in engineering. There are still a few things you could learn about the ship's systems," Carter tells him.

"I wish to advance in my understanding of your technical coding, particularly on the weapons systems that I could not access before," he complains. "I understand the composition of the engines better than those who work the systems."

"Hmm." She regards him. "Remind me to never introduce you to McKay. Look," she leans forward, her hands clasped above the surface of the desk she sits at. "You're here to learn about our technology, but I think you're also here to learn about the people who created that technology."

"You said it was created by a now dead race," the Technician says, confused.

Carter smiles patiently. "Spend some time in engineering," she repeats, and he recognizes it now as an order. "They could use an extra hand," she adds, "as we still don't know what exactly’s wrong with the hyperdrive, and they were already pulling from other departments on this voyage before your... _former_ hive took out a chunk of my crew."

"You preserved most of your people from being fed upon," he tells her. He was impressed at the time and still is now, but he can sense the sorrow behind her tight smile.

"But not all," is all she says as she dismisses him. He leaves her office somewhat baffled.

He recalls something the Commander had said: humans value individual lives _over_ the wellbeing of hive.  It is... an extremely strange way of thinking. Truly the accomplishments of individuals are important- as he himself knows, being very accomplished- but they are nothing without hive. Preservation of the hive is, by necessity, the most important goal.

 

* * *

 

 

Upon his own former hive, he was given the designation Technician.

Upon the Devourer's hive he served the same function; her lack of a technical specialist was what had led his former commander to place him among the assemblage of Wraith that the Devourer requisitioned from their hive when she first took the human warship.

Upon the now human-commanded _Daedalus_ he's not certain what his position is.                                             

He hovers in the doorway of the engineering compartment and watches the humans move about. Instead of ignoring him, the way they had when all had been working in a frenzy to return the ship's sublight engines to working order, they shy away from him. Their apprehension rises through the air like a cloud.

"Colonel Carter has sent me to learn about your vessel," he says to the female who appears to be in charge.

She makes an odd noise at him, like there is air trapped in her throat. She repeats the noise several times, and he does not understand the significance of it.

The taller of the male humans points him to a position. "Stand over there," he says, his voice edging on disrespectful.

The Technician feels his lip curl in response, and the humans scatter away warily at the showing of his teeth. The Technician is surprised by this, though he is not sure why; he has seen that the humans prefer avoidance to confrontation, whereas he would expect another Wraith to stand and challenge him. The novelty amuses him, and he bares his teeth at the disrespectful male human often.

 

As the hours and days pass, he grows familiar with the humans who occupy engineering. And the ship does not require that much of his attention, so he is perhaps... bored, and he learns about them.

He would usually catalog in the hivesense the Wraith who worked beside him with a combination of traits that marked them as individuals possessive of certain skills and assign designations accordingly. With the lack of hivesense and the fluidity of the humans’ command structure- which appears to combine a military and a scientific system without resolving them into a single, organized arrangement- he _does_ find the use of specific names for individuals to be… convenient. Being without hive does not trouble him but, by the queens of old, it seems a sad state to be reduced to human levels of interacting with the world.

There are different groups of humans that work in overlapping shifts so that they are each spared hours to rest. He recognizes and remembers the one-armed woman first; her name is Chuong. He had removed her from her position when he and Carter first came to engineering to return the ship to human control, because he had been able to enter the proper data faster than she could simply by virtue of having two functional hands. Her left arm remains strapped to her body, useless, and he intuits from the conversation and inquiry of the others that she is still healing from an injury received when the Devourer's hive first attacked. That would have been before he came upon the vessel, but he behaves more courteously toward her out of a vague sense he cannot place but which might be commiseration; they were both wounded by the Devourer, she physically and he mentally.

The woman with the air trapped in her throat is called Novak. She is, fortunately, a competent engineer when not flustered and _is_ able to speak in words that are comprehensible. He avoids her, as her breathing suffers paroxysms more often when he startles her. She grows more used to his presence; he remains well within her sightline and refrains from appearing suddenly behind her.

The disrespectful male is called Hawkins. He is loud, behaves arrogantly toward his colleagues, and is by far the most incompetent of the group. Hawkins is often sent on trips to other portions of the vessel to effect repairs or to answer calls for assistance from other departments, and, from the conversation that happens while he is gone, the Technician learns that Hawkins is one of those who is not officially an engineer for this vessel but is filling a position that was formerly held by a more knowledgeable person who died in the attack.

The two others with whom he is most familiar are quieter, but the Technician learns that they are also not primarily engineers. There is another male called Morel-Fatio who is a mathematician, and a female called Brewster who is an extragalactic astronomer. Brewster is, perhaps, the most visually interesting of the humans, as her hair defies gravity in a way that he has never seen before, curling thick and tight to her head in a dark cloud.

None of them speak directly to him other than Hawkins, who seems pleased when his disrespect fails to elicit a response of death threats from the Technician. He taunts the Wraith, but the Technician has only to bare his teeth or spread his claws at the human to silence his chattering.

It has been requested by Carter that he remain here, and he understands from the Commander's prohibition against feeding that he is also to not kill the humans in any other fashion, however obnoxiously Hawkins behaves.

 

* * *

 

 

On the fourth day he spends in engineering with them, the Technician returns to his post after the break that Carter insists he take. He has no need of food, or the amount of rest the humans require, so he spends most of his "breaks" either accessing the weapons system to work on his understanding of it or attempting to create a program that will perform an eliminating repetitive diagnostic on the hyperdrive; he is having trouble interfacing this idea with the Asgard system. The hyperdrive is still not functional, and Carter has spent much of whatever time she can spare buried in the main drive, attempting to discover where the error lies.

The Technician steps into the engineering compartment and his omnipresent guard, one of a group of four who rotate shifts, takes up a position near the wall.

Hawkins is standing next to Brewster who has just started her shift. She is crowded against her usual workstation, as far away from Hawkins as she can get in the small space between him and the unyielding presence of the workstation. Hawkins looks up at the Technician’s arrival and sneers. "They need me in the hanger bay, but I could hang around a bit longer, make sure the dangerous Wraith doesn't try to eat you," he offers to Brewster.

She shakes her head and says, "No."

With another sneer at the Technician, Hawkins leaves on his assignment. The Technician grins, which quickens Hawkins steps. The Technician notices Brewster noticing this, but when she catches his glance from the corner of her eye she turns her face resolutely to her workstation.

As soon as Hawkins is gone, Chuong chants under her breath, "Last tour, last tour."

Novak rolls her eyes. "The sooner we get the hyperdrive fixed," she begins.

"The sooner you don't need us," Morel-Fatio adds, "and we can _all_ go back to our _different_ departments."

Brewster huffs agreement.

"No, the sooner we get the hyperdrive fixed, the sooner we get to Atlantis, the sooner we get back to Earth," Chuong corrects, "and the sooner _he_ gets transferred off this ship and hopefully posted to Antarctica."

The Technician realizes they are speaking of Hawkins. He frowns as his diagnostic program once again fails to implement with the Asgard system, and for the moment turns his attention to monitoring radiation readouts. 

 

He has been working for some time when Chuong says, "Incoming."

He has no idea what she means by this, but Brewster suddenly steps up close to him, working at the station beside his. None of the humans have ever worked at this station before, and she brings it online without addressing him. The Technician observes her for a handful of moments.

Hawkins enters the compartment. "Well, the ship isn't going to blow up, you're welcome." He comes over, near to Brewster.

The Technician bares his teeth at the man and hisses in the back of his throat, and Hawkins abruptly changes the direction of his course so that he ends up on the far side of the compartment, mumbling under his breath about rechecking sensors.

Brewster sighs. "Thank you," she says.

The words are soft, a mere breath, and the Technician is uncertain whom she is addressing. He finds it unlikely that she speaks to Hawkins, though it is just as unlikely that she is speaking to him, as none of them ever have, and none of the others are close enough to have been the intended recipient. Her eyes are fixed upon her screen so he wonders if she is perhaps thanking the ship for some obscure thing. "Does the ship hear you?" he asks, because he _has_ wondered how the humans even _manage_ with this dead vessel of theirs without going mad.

Brewster jumps, a small noise of alarm startled out of her. His guard, standing by the wall, tenses.

The Technician tenses as well, stepping back. "I did not mean to frighten you," he says softly.

"I know, sorry," Brewster says. She smiles, a tentative curving of lip that does not bare teeth, and he replies with a dip of the head. She nods her head back at him and steps in beside him again so that they are easily sharing the space at the workstation. "You just surprised me. Um, no, the ship can't hear me."

The Technician is puzzled. "Were you not thanking it just now?"

Her skin is dark so he senses more than sees the rush of blood beneath it that heralds a flush of embarrassment. "No. I was... Well, I guess I was thanking _you_."

He looks at her sharply. "What for?"

She glances up at him, then swiftly returns her eyes to the station as Hawkins reenters the room in his process of recalibrating some sensor that the Technician is not paying attention to. Hawkins looks at Brewster predatorily, then notices the Technician watching him with narrowed eyes. Hawkins bares his teeth and backs away restlessly before turning toward Chuong and stepping close to her.

Chuong is working at two different stations and she pointedly sidesteps around Hawkins' presence to return to her other station. She shoots a withering look at his back that makes the Technician wonder what her response would have been if her left arm wasn't still immobilized.

The Technician glances at Brewster before returning his eyes to his work. Brewster is the smallest of the humans, but, more than this, she is quiet. Thinking back, he recalls that he _has_ noticed in the days he has spent here that she suffers Hawkins' attentions the most; he crowds her physically and takes up her time with explanations of things which she already knows. On occasion he has placed his hand on her arm or torso in a manner that would not be uncommon for Wraith but which seems more intimate by human standards; the touch is certainly not welcome in any case, and he removes his hand when Brewster requests it, but his repetition of the action when aware of the response it consistently generates shows a remarkable lack of perception on Hawkins' part, a lack of perception that extends to the occasions the Technician has noted where Morel-Fatio in particular or one of the others has verbally addressed Hawkins' tendency to aggressively possess Brewster's space.

Brewster steps closer to the Technician now, as Hawkins moves around the engineering space toward them, and the Technician steps back, reaching around Brewster to tap one of the devices on the panel on her far side.

His arm is between her and Hawkins' approach and he asks her, "This one controls the separation of the Asgard systems, yes?"

Brewster flinches from his movement, but she nods her head and answers, voice soft, "Yes." She looks up at him and smiles again, shyly.

"Thank you," he tells her and returns her soft smile as he returns to his position.  "It is my endeavor to learn more about these systems."

She frowns at him before glancing at Novak.

The space is not so large that their conversation has not been overheard and Novak raises her eyes to meet Brewster's. Her eyebrows accomplish a feat that Wraith have no equivalent for and confirms to Brewster, "Colonel Carter did say we were to tell him whatever he wants to know." She looks at the Technician fully for the first time, meeting his eyes. Her gaze flickers to Brewster and then back to him approvingly, and he realizes that she recognized his deliberate intimidation of Hawkins on Brewster’s behalf.

The Technician bows his head to her.

"What's your name?" Novak asks him, her voice hesitant but fortunately clear.

He sighs. "Wraith do not have names, as humans understand. On my previous hive I held the position of Technician."

Brewster frowns. "Technician," she repeats curiously. "It's kind of... unspecific."

"Without hivesense, the title does lose much of its connotation," he agrees.

They work in silence for a minute before Novak breaches the subject again. "Do you... Would you want a name? Or... could we come up with a better position title for you?"

The Technician pauses to observe her.

Her fairer skin flushes obviously with her own embarrassment. "I mean, if you'd want that," she finishes weakly.

"They call Colonel Sheppard's Wraith 'Todd,'" Chuong observes without her fingers slowing at all as they fly over the keys of her input device.

The Technician remembers Colonel Carter using this word to refer to the Commander. "Todd?" he repeats. The syllable sits in his mouth oddly. "What does it signify?"

"It's a name." Novak shrugs. "I don't think it signifies anything. Except to help tell him apart from other Wraith."

"It's an old word meaning 'fox,'" Morel-Fatio offers, looking up hesitantly.

Chuong's journey back to her other screen brings her close in time to hear Morel-Fatio's words and she snorts, "An old Disney movie maybe," before she reads a value off her screen and returns to the further of the stations where she is working.

Morel-Fatio rolls his eyes and mutters, half under his breath, " _Je suis familier avec le Reynard_."

The Technician frowns; he has observed Morel-Fatio speaking seeming nonsense before, and though the others do not seem to comprehend the words either, they also do not seem alarmed when it happens.

"Oh, Reynard the Fox!" Brewster says now with the pleasure of recognition. "We read those tales in my undergrad lit class," she says, turning toward the Technician as she says the words, as if addressing him, though he has no idea what an "undergrad lit" is. "A fox is an animal from our home planet," she explains. "They are famous for being very clever."

"Ah." The Technician mulls this over. "The Commander _is_ clever, though I would rather find _audacious_ a more descriptive designation."

Brewster laughs- a short, light sound, that makes Novak smile as well.

"What are you talking about in here?" Hawkins says, standing in the door.

Brewster frowns at him and doesn't answer.

"Wraith," Chuong tells him. "Nothing you'd be interested in."

Hawkins scowls at her. "How do you know? Maybe I love talking about Wraith."

Chuong snorts her disbelief.

The Technician eyes him; he also finds Hawkins' words doubtful. "What does your name signify?" he asks Brewster, ignoring Hawkins.

"Gosh, I don't know. My first name is Aerin- Aerin Brewster. Um, I know I was named after a character in a book my mom liked." She rolls her eyes. "I don't know what it means. My last name either. I mean, that was my parents' name, so it's mine also."

"Aerin is probably a variant of 'E-r-i-n,'" Morel-Fatio says. "from the Irish _Éire_ , as in Ireland. It is an old name, possibly meaning 'abundant.'"

"How do you know so much?" Brewster says, delighted.

Morel-Fatio ducks his head and it's his turn to flush with discomfiture. "I hold a bachelor’s degree in Comparative Languages and Linguistics. "

"And you ended up on a starship with a degree like that?" Novak says, a sort of false incredulity in her voice.

"I enjoyed it, but it seemed little enough when my true gift was for complex functions," Morel-Fatio replies with a curl of lip that suggests he understands her astonishment is not in earnest.

Novak gives a small smile. "Thanks for sharing the info," she says to Morel-Fatio. She looks at the Technician.

Before she can ask again, the Technician says, "I believe it would be beneficial to adopt a specific designation according to human customs."

"Cool!" Brewster bares her teeth in her excitement, standing up on the balls of her feet for a moment before rolling back onto her heels. "What do you want to call yourself?"

He is engaged by her excitement, but he pauses thoughtfully. A designation is for others to call _him_ when necessary, in order to increase efficiency in the hive. This human concept of naming is different then, and he knows so little about what is considered appropriate. "How does one go about adopting a designation, in your tradition?"

Hawkins scoffs, lurking around the edges of the space. "It's called a name. And your parents give it to you." His tone is condescending. He steps around behind Brewster, standing too close to her, and she steps closer to the workstation in order to avoid him as much as possible.

The Technician steps around Brewster as well, and bares his teeth at Hawkins. In this position, Hawkins is standing quite close enough to appreciate them. "My thanks for your information," the Technician says. He is aware that some humans find the tone of Wraith speech unsettling, and he lets the sibilants hiss a bit more than he usually does to emphasize the dissonance.

Hawkins brings his arm up in warning at the Technician's proximity, but the guard by the door only watches in amusement, having watched the dance and as aware as everyone else in the room is of its steps. Only Hawkins seems unaware of the Technician's responses resulting from Hawkins' own behavior, and once again Hawkins flees the room, offering the excuse that his shift is near to ending.

Morel-Fatio chuckles softly.

"Dude," Chuong says as she pauses at the nearer of her work stations. "Nothing about that creep is funny."

" _Non_ ," Morel-Fatio says in explanation, "It reminds me of _The Odyssey_."

Brewster frowns and looks at him in confusion. "The ship?"

"No, the old tale. Odysseus was a sailor and a warrior returning to his home on his vessel," he explains, to the others, but mostly to the Technician as he is facing the Wraith as he speaks. "He came to a place where he must sail between two perils." His hands rise as he becomes drawn into the telling of the tale, and perhaps in search of words. " _Un grand monstre et le tourbillon_ \- a monster that sat on a rock, and, um," his fingers search the air for something before they seize upon it and he continues, "a whirlpool, that would completely destroy his ship. There was not room to fit between them, he must encounter one. He asks himself, should he lose six men to the hungry mouths of the monster, or should he risk his entire ship passing near to the whirlpool?"

The Technician narrows his eyes. "The choice is obvious. Six sacrificed for the good of the hive is not ideal, but as long as the hive is preserved."

Morel-Fatio nods. "This was Odysseus' thinking as well." He gestures to Brewster. "Forgive me if I offend," he says to the Technician, "but you are the monster on the rock that shelters Aerin from the whirlpool."

Brewster looks offended on his behalf, but she _was_ the one who had chosen to "sail" close to him, and the Technician laughs in the first true amusement he has felt in a long time. He feels some kinship with this Odysseus, who finally demonstrates that a human is capable of thinking like a Wraith, but, more so... "This monster of the six mouths, does it bear a signifier as well?"

"It is known as Scylla. It is a saying of our planet, to be between Scylla and Charybdis is to be faced with a choice that cannot be won."

Scylla grins. "That is my name, then." He bows to Morel-Fatio. "My thanks, for the tale and the appellation."

Brewster claps her hands and bares her teeth in pleasure as she looks fondly on Morel-Fatio. Morel-Fatio is still flushed, but when he looks back at Brewster Scylla can smell the warm swell of desire. Scylla is pleased; Hawkins is terrible at courting queens and will likely not secure the affections of one, even though the humans seem to have females in abundance. Morel-Fatio has a much better demeanor and is worthy of Brewster if she should choose to grace him with her affection.

"Scylla," Brewster says, feeling her way around the name. "I can't say that it would have been my choice. But as long as you like it." She smiles her soft smile at Scylla.

"I am well pleased with it," Scylla says. He is not clever perhaps, though he is a creature who seeks knowledge. He does not feed here because it is his choice to refrain, and not because he fears reprisal. Among these humans he does not wish it ever to be forgotten, by those like Hawkins who would mistake his restraint for fear, that he can also be a dangerous monster that hungers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Scylla has been a character I've wanted to share more about since I created him, but he needed a bit of space until he could come to his name. :) 
>   * Because I watched too much _Gargoyles_ as a kid, when someone says "fox" my brain immediately goes "Reynard!", so I have to thank Blue Night for reminding me that Todd means fox. :)
>   * Aerin is the main character of Robin McKinley's _The Hero and the Crown_. I realized as I was googling it that it's also a _Farscape_ character, but I'm not really a _Farscape_ fan so... you are welcome to take it as you will.
> 



	2. Chapter 2

 

When Scylla returns to engineering for his next shift he receives quiet greetings from the others who are present- smiles instead of the sharp glances he had become used to. He inclines his head in deference to Novak who is the section head, and returns to his workstation. He is eager to try out his program again, and scowls in frustration when it begins to implement but then stalls out and fails to complete the function. He is distracted by this and barely glances up as Morel-Fatio is replaced by Chuong sometime later, as the next of the staggered shifts rotates.

Chuong makes a noise of aggravation that Scylla is displeased to discover startles him out of his own frustrated contemplations. "Sublights are slower than healing bones!" Chuong says, more loudly than is necessary.

Novak's expression is pained, but when she makes a sound of commiseration Scylla realizes that she is not, as he is, aggrieved by the sudden noise but is rather agreeing with Chuong's statement.

Chuong paces restlessly around the engineering space, distracted and evidencing an inefficient work ethic. She disappears into a side passage and Scylla can hear her berating Hawkins, who, in this rare case, does not appear to be fault for any specific action.

Novak sighs. "Tiên," she calls. "Why don't you check the cross-system power relays?"

Reappearing, Chuong grunts an affirmative at Novak and moves to a panel on the wall near to Scylla. Opening the panel, she half disappears inside of it.

Scylla watches her with interest. He has never seen one of the humans access this panel before and he is curious to see what lies there and how it works.

it is not long after this that Brewster appears, smiling cautiously. "Good morning," she greets him.

Scylla bows his head to her. He has heard the humans use this greeting before; _morning_ seems to refer to a measurement of time that is of importance to planet dwellers. He himself has never set foot on the surface of one and has only been planetbound in the times when the hive sleeps, and he replies only, "You are returned."

Brewster's smile broadens and she comes to work beside him evidencing far more energy than she had been so doing at the ending of her previous shift.

"You appear reenergized," he adds.

"Yep! Good sleep and a good breakfast will do that." Brewster says the words warmly, but then locks up around them when she realizes with whom she is speaking; she shies away from Scylla, watching him sudden wariness. Chuong has leaned out of her wall compartment workspace, to narrow her eyes at Scylla; she is holding a tool ending in a tapered point in her good hand and looks like she is debating the merits of attacking him with it.

Scylla’s exasperation is evident to anyone who would touch his mind, but his words are an attempt to soothe Brewster. "It is good to fulfill your body’s needs, as it maximizes efficiency. My body is far more efficient and does not require rest or energy as often."

Chuong snorts. "Arrogance thy name is," she mutters confusingly, and does not seem interested in loosening her hold on the tool.

Brewster, it would appear, can't _not_ continue down the corridor of thoughts that she has inadvertently stumbled upon. Morales, the current of Scylla's guards, who stands near the opposite wall, has his hands tense on his weapon as he watches.

"Did you... when did you last eat a person?" Brewster seems both curious and also transfixed by the potential of sorrow. "Was it..."

"Aerin, don't," Chuong advises her, but Brewster doesn't listen.

"Was it someone I know?"

"Unlikely," Scylla replies, "as the only time I have fed since coming to this vessel was upon another Wraith."

Brewster inhales, her expression relaxing, but the look she turns back on him is deliberative. "But that's the only way you survive, right? You drain the life out of people."

"Yes." He had always found the hunger, at best, distracting, though he has never been in an instance where he has needed to give much thought to it- before his arrival in the service of the Devourer, that is.

Brewster’s fingers are moving restively against the workstation as she stares at him. "If you stay here, will you eat us?"

"Unlikely," he repeats.

Chuong glares and interrupts, disbelieving, "Why's that?"

Scylla sighs so that his irritation is made known to the headblind. "I have sworn that I will not feed upon any human upon this vessel. I will not need to feed for some time yet. If something should happen to change the current state of affairs then I cannot anticipate what my actions will be, though I find it improbable that I would break my oath."

Brewster's gaze has grown calculating. "What if you got stuck here long enough that you needed to feed?"

"I would advise Colonel Carter of my need and obey her directives." He sighs again and continues, "There are many possible courses of action, up to and including refusing my need and confining or killing me. I do not doubt Colonel Carter's ability to remove me from existence should that existence threaten her crew. However, I would advise her that in a survival situation I believe my superior physical strength and not inconsiderable intelligence would be an asset to her. I would accept whatever fate, as long as the hive is preserved." He blinks. "By 'hive' I do mean your vessel."

"Hmm," is Chuong's response.

"Do you miss your hive?" Brewster asks, changing her course.

Scylla blinks. "No." He frowns. "The absence of the hive itself does... It leaves an empty place in my mind that your dead ship cannot fill. But I do not long for the presence of other Wraith."

"You don't have any friends?" Chuong asks. She leans away from the panel and closes it with a pat of her hand.

Scylla cocks his head. "Friends?" he asks.

"People, er, other Wraith that you like. That you hang out with," Brewster says.

"Who have your back," Chuong adds.

"I believe the Wraith equivalent is brothers," Scylla says, but he thinks about it for a moment. "I would say 'brothers' both to indicate hivebrothers, who are in the same hive and part of the same hivesense, and also to indicate a bond that is deeply personal. I had not realized until just now that the spoken word sounds the same to you without hivesense."

"So you say 'brothers,' but you could mean 'friends' _or_ 'acquaintances', which," Chuong elaborates, "is human-speak for 'people I just happen to hang around but don't necessarily like.'"

"There is a closeness imparted by hivesense," Scylla agrees with amusement, "but it does not guarantee that one will find all the other Wraith in the hive pleasant to be around. And to answer your previous question, I had one on my previous hive whom I would consider a 'friend,'" his mouth twists around the unfamiliar word. "Overall, I was not pleased with that hive."

"One friend." Brewster frowns. "That seems lonely."

Scylla shakes his head. "With hivesense, one is never lonely."

Brewster scowls as she leans back, thinking about it, but she ends up shaking her head. "I don't think I understand how that works."

Scylla nods. "That is reasonable."

Brewster looks at him sidelong and smiles a confused smile. She shrugs and changes the topic of conversation again. "So, what is this you're working on?"

"In theory, it is an eliminative diagnostic program. The objective of the program is to discover where the exact fault lies with the hyperdrive. It has, so far, failed to integrate properly with the _Daedalus_ ' systems."

Brewster narrows her eyes at his screen. "Well, coding isn't my _thing_ \- give me a telescope any day- but I know Doctor McKay doesn't have trouble interfacing his tablet with Wraith systems. You’d think there would be some kind of standard workaround program in all systems by now."

"Though I have written it, the program itself isn't Wraith," Scylla says. "It was originally designed to work within a hive, but I have rewritten it so that it should be speaking to your systems in ways that they understand. However, it is not doing so."

Brewster leans back and Scylla smirks at her as it would seem that she is taking a moment to fully comprehend what he has been saying, but she surprises him by jumping right past simple comprehension and moving on into solutions. "Okay," she says determinedly. "I think your problem is that your program is still thinking like this _is_ a hive."

Scylla frowns. "I have reconstructed the entire code from its base components. The program is entirely aware that that _Daedalus_ is not a hive."

"But are _you_?" She tilts her head at Scylla. "It's not just that the ship is _different_. The _entire_ way it works is different."

He blinks at her, stymied for the moment, and somewhat chagrinned to realize that she might be right.

"You asked me, last shift," Brewster continues, "if the ship could hear me. Well, it can't. It doesn't talk, to us, or to the other parts of itself, unless we tell it to."

Scylla leans back himself in his own realization. "The program is designed to build on the results given to it by each section report and then proceed from there," he mutters to himself, adding to Brewster, "You are correct. The fact that it does not include a command prompt to initiate the diagnostic in each section separately is why the implementation isn't working." His fingers move over the keys, adjusting code. He initiates the program again, and Brewster exclaims when it implements as it should.

Scylla turns to regard her warmly. "Now it is a matter of waiting for it to return its results and then effecting the correct repair."

Brewster looks excited. "We're one step closer to getting the hyperdrive fixed!" she calls to Chuong.

"Yeah, yeah, tell me when it's done," is the muttered response.

Scylla is about to reply when he feels the brush of hive. He leans against the terminal, his focus going inward, and then outward.

The hive is close by, and he wonders why he did not feel it sooner. But there is something... disquieting about it, a rupture that runs through the usually warm sensation of a hivepresence, which becomes even more alarming as he realizes that it is _his_ hive. Or, at least the hive he belonged to before he was sent to the Devourer.

"Scylla?" Brewster calls. Her voice is distant, and a part of him fails to recognize that this is his chosen _name_ , but the tone of her voice calls to him. There is something in her voice that is neither worry nor fear but is also both, somehow softer; _concern_ , the caring for a brother- _friend_ is the new word he has learned- and it is this sensation that recalls him to himself.

Scylla opens his eyes, only then realizing that he'd closed them, and regards Brewster. "I can feel my hive. They are close." He stands straighter. "I must report this to Colonel Carter."

Chuong looks worriedly at Novak.

Novak steps over to Scylla and Brewster’s shared workstation and touches one of the configurations on its face, inputting a code. Carter's voice says, "Engineering?"

Scylla blinks at Novak; she nods to him. "This is Scylla," he says. "I wish to report that I can feel a hive approaching our position."

"There's nothing on sensors yet," Carter observes. "Are they aware that we've retaken the ship?"

"I don't believe so, but they are too far away to be certain."

"Understood. Report to the bridge," Carter says and disconnects the communication.

Scylla is surprised, but there isn't time to give much thought to it.

He glances at Brewster, who appears to be nerving herself up for something. After a few breaths, she reaches out with a shaking fist and punches him in the arm. She grins afterward, looking almost ill with anxiety. "Good luck," Brewster says, her voice shaking. The words seem rather precarious from what he understands of their meaning, but she does not seem to know what other ones to offer. She clears her throat and steadies herself. "I'll keep an eye on your program," she adds.

Scylla observes her. He has seen the arm punch used as a salutation between Brewster and Chuong previously, so he understands that the extremely weak attempt at assault is not meant as an attack. He grins at Brewster, a full Wraith grin, showing many teeth. "I entrust it to you," he replies with a bow.

Brewster smiles, the expression weak with falling adrenaline, but she meets his eyes with growing confidence. Novak and Chuong give him terse nods of acceptance, and he turns to his guard.

Scylla regards the human; Morales is the most reserved of his guards. In the days Scylla has been here, he has gotten a sense for most of the humans he is in contact with often, but Morales is an exception. Scylla feels this human's reserve means he would not be averse to turning the weapon he holds on _Scylla_ if some altercation should occur.

And indeed, now, Morales holds up his hand to halt Scylla from departing from the area where he has been permitted to work. Scylla feels his lips pull back in affront, baring his teeth. He understands that the humans are naturally wary of a Wraith in their midst, but he has even _just now_ spoken of his sworn word. Does that mean so little to the humans?

But Morales speaks, saying, "Hold up a minute. My shift's ending, and Nichols is already on his way here."

As he finishes speaking, Nichols, probably the most easygoing of Scylla's guards, turns the nearest corner and approaches them. He and Morales exchange salutes, and Morales reports to Nichols, "Colonel just requested that Scylla report to the bridge." Nichols nods easily.

Scylla bows his head in some chagrin. "My thanks for your assistance," he says to Morales.

Morales pauses and looks back at Scylla. He looks as if he might say something, but he only nods before he walks away.

 

Nichols leads the way rapidly down the hall toward the bridge level. It is an area of the ship to which Scylla has not been since the Commander returned the vessel to the humans. Perhaps because of this, the people they encounter are... unused to Scylla's presence. While he elicits no comment from the humans he passes in the hallways between his assigned quarters and engineering, on this level those they pass stop and stare at him.

"Wraith!" a voice cries in alarm as Scylla steps through a doorway ahead of Nichols. The sound of a weapon being drawn seems to echo in the sudden cessation of sound.

Scylla halts, his eyes immediately drawn to the man who stands in the center of the hallway, his sidearm drawn and pointed at Scylla. The other humans in the hall stand back against the walls, as if not wishing to be caught in the crossfire.

As Scylla stands without moving, the human only grows more nervous. "You're... you're not allowed up here!" he finally says desperately.

Scylla feels his lip curling but he attempts to retain his calm demeanor. "I have been summoned by Colonel Carter."

The soldier shakes his head, his finger tightening on the trigger of his weapon as he brings his other hand to steady the weapon. Scylla snarls, tensing to attack first.

It has been but a handful of seconds, and Nichols catches him up, stepping close beside Scylla, his hand reaching to grab Scylla by the arm as he places himself between the potential antagonists. "That's enough," he says. "Stand down, Bradshaw."

It is only the second time that one of the humans has touched him, and within moments of each other, and this is far more contact that Brewster had nerved herself up to. Scylla stiffens under the man's grasp, but the feeling of _excitement trust alarm protect_ that flits over the surface of Nichols thoughts keeps Scylla from pulling away. He feels the anxiety of the observers lessen when it seems that Nichols has him controlled.

The soldier identified as Bradshaw shakes his head again. His weapon wavers in the air.

"Put down the gun, Bradshaw," Nichols says more gently. "Or I'm gonna have to write you up."

"Write _me_ up," Bradshaw murmurs shaking his head. "You're not shooting that monster, _you're_ the one not thinking right, Sergeant."

Scylla raises his right hand in threat and hisses, "You will not disregard Sergeant Nichols for following his proper orders, and doing so far better than you are able!"

Bradshaw's tension ratchets up, and Nichols shoves Scylla toward a door on the opposite side of the hall. "Go," Nichols says. "Through there, and then you know the way. I'll deal with this."

Scylla regards him, but Nichols' attention is focused on Bradshaw. So Scylla does not waste time, but moves swiftly out of sight. He hears Bradshaw exclaim after he has vanished, but he does not hear the sound of weapons fire and so concludes that Nichols was able to prevent escalation of the incident.

 

By this hall, Scylla arrives at the rear of the bridge area. He stands for a moment in the passageway and listens. He can hear Carter speaking with someone.

The person she is conversing with is speaking through an electronic device, the voice echoing with a tinny dissonance. "Doctor McKay is pulling data from the DHD, but it could be awhile before he is able to find anything concrete."

"Keep me posted, Colonel," Carter says. "I believe we have some excitement headed our way as well."

"Good luck," the man says and disconnects the communication.

Carter turns and catches sight of Scylla.

He had lingered before stepping out as he did not want to unduly alarm the bridge personnel. Scylla is pleased that Carter has called him here to the bridge, though he fully realizes that it is because of the information that he can give to her and not because she has given him her trust. Her eyes flicker to take in his lack of guard.

"Sergeant Nichols felt obligated to stop and see to a soldier who sought to prevent me from responding to your summons," Scylla tells her.

"Really." It does not sound as though she is questioning his statement, so Scylla only bows his head in acknowledgement and Carter frowns in a way that does not bode well for Bradshaw. She says, "Tell me about this hive that approaches."

"It is my former hive. The Devourer sent all the hives away to fulfill tasks, but I do not know where they were sent or why. I believe they seek this vessel in search of her." He hesitates but adds, "There is... a disquiet within the hive."

"What does that mean?" Carter prompts him.

Scylla's lip pulls back unconsciously as he thinks about it. "The hive is... divided in spirit," he says finally. "There must be some decision that the commander has made that many in the hive are displeased with."

Carter hums thoughtfully. "We have a saying, a house divided against itself cannot stand."

Scylla scowls. "I do not know if I understand that, but a hive divided in spirit will have a new commander shortly."

"Is that good?" Carter asks. When Scylla tilts his head questioningly, she elaborates, "Do you think the commander of this hive would be an ally of ours, or of the Devourer?"

"Ahh." Scylla thinks. "My former commander was not pleased with the Devourer. But I do not think he would be your ally without a good reason."

Carter nods. "Can we influence the choice of a new commander? Or could you influence it if I sent you back to the hive?"

Scylla pulls himself up; she speaks casually of his departure from her vessel and return to the hive, as if it is a conclusion foregone, and he wonders why that does not sit well with him.

Carter catches his expression and her own softens. "I don't mean to send you from us. You chose to stay on the _Daedalus_ , and I won't send you away, unless you wanted to leave. I meant if I sent you as part of an embassy, as my agent on the hive. Could we choose a new commander that would be sympathetic to an alliance?"

Scylla inhales deeply and his right hand clenches tightly; he is more deeply affected by Carter's words than he would want to let on. In this moment he is glad that humans are headblind, for another Wraith would feel the depth of his emotion. It takes him a moment before he can compose speech.

"No. It is not as it is with queens. A commander must rise because the hive supports him, or the hive will remain riven. If your people could be present to an occurrence of a change of leadership, you would perhaps be able to throw your support behind a contender, though the meddling of humans in a Wraith affair would not gain him support from his fellow Wraith."

Carter nods thoughtfully.

The navigator speaks, "Colonel, we're picking up a ship on our sensors. It looks like a hive."

A hum of nervous energy springs up, spreading through the bridge.

"Understood." Carter moves to the front of the bridge and takes her seat in the center. Scylla moves up as well, remaining near enough to Carter to be useful, but standing to the side, out of the way of those who work. "Shields?" Carter asks, though her voice is even; she is asking for the confirmation of information she already knows.

"Moderate," a tight-faced woman at one of the interfaces says. Her gaze flickers to Scylla, then returns to the data on her screen.

"I have the beam weapon ready to deploy," the man seated at Carter's right hand says.

"Colonel, it looks like the hive has taken some damage," another man reports. "I’m reading an intermittent tremor in the Wraith’s usual electromagnetic jamming field."

Scylla looks out the port at the front of the human’s bridge and he can see the hive. To see a hive in space, from space, is a new thing and he loses himself in it for a moment, in touching the hive and observing its beauty. He can still feel the strange rift in the hivepresence, and it pulls at him oddly. He comes back to himself to find Carter watching him.

Scylla shakes himself. "The hive is damaged," he agrees.

"Colonel, they're hailing us," the man seated at Carter's left hand says.

Scylla sees Carter's chin come up as her eyes narrow. She shifts her gaze to him and makes a decision. She beckons Scylla to approach her and tells the man at her left hand, "Make it bridgewide."

The man looks surprised, but says, "Yes, ma'am."

Carter hands Scylla one of the devices that many of the humans wear in their ears. Scylla wraps it around that orifice with some distaste but hears the voice of his previous commander as if the other Wraith was standing beside him. "Respond, vessel that is commanded by the Devourer."

Carter looks at Scylla for a long moment. He can feel that her mind is weighing several options. "We can't run well with only sublights and if we start shooting we're the ones who don't have great shields," she muses, but he can tell that she would rather shoot first and protect her own than see if the hive will react poorly to the ship being controlled again by the humans.

Scylla frowns. "I can... speak with him, if you like. Try to understand better what is happening with the hive."

Carter looks at him, and she nods slowly.

"What is the delay?" his previous commander demands, suspicion rising in his voice.

Scylla touches the communicator at his ear. "There is no delay," he retorts with a harsh snarl. "Only your impatience."

This is followed by a tense moment of silence. Carter holds her breath, and all of her bridge crew waits upon her word.

His previous commander says, more guardedly, "Is the queen's new primary ship ready?"

Scylla fights to keep the disdain from his voice but is not entirely successful. "A queen is not worthy of a vessel that she cannot command."

There is another moment of silence before his previous commander replies, "A worthy queen is a joy to her hive, but a nervous queen has many warriors."

Scylla grins and turns to Carter. "It is an old saying. The Devourer has many warriors. He is not pleased with her."

Carter is leaned forward in her chair and she nods.

"This ship is commanded by those who deserve to command it," Scylla tells the hive commander. He meets Carter's gaze.

Carter smiles, a slow, anticipatory expression that spreads over her face and up to her eyes. She touches her communicator. "This is Colonel Samantha Carter, commander of the _Daedalus_. Please declare your intentions." She is holding herself tense, her hand raised, and her weapons technician has his eyes fixed on her.

There is silence on the communication device for another stretch of moments. "Technician," his previous commander identifies him. "What has happened to the Devourer?"

Scylla pulls himself up. "I am known as Scylla," he replies, "according to the human custom of naming. The Devourer has abandoned this vessel."

"The Devourer does not abandon those who serve her with devotion," his previous commander says.

"She is a queen not worthy of devotion," Scylla snarls back, perhaps allowing himself to become too impassioned.

There is a moment of silence before his previous commander says thoughtfully, though not without some derision, "Scylla. Your human commander seems to have won your devotion."

"She has proven herself a worthy commander," he replies.

"But she is human."

Scylla understands well enough that allying with humans rather than Culling them is a new concept for most, but it wasn’t _his_ idea, and it is not his alliance.

"She is commander of this vessel, but it is not Colonel Carter that I am devoted to," Scylla says. "The humans are allies with the Ancient One." Scylla is not certain if he trusts that this is true, but by properties of transference it is true enough to give his previous commander a reason to stand down and to respect Scylla’s own choice to rebel against the Devourer.

"The Ancient One is a legend," his previous commander scoffs, but immediately following his words Scylla feels a ripple in the hivesense; the mention of the Ancient One has shifted the balance of the rift in the hive.

Scylla tells the commander, "When she drains you of your life for your impudence I will be pleased to be proven correct."

Silence stretches over the communicator. Carter waits barely breathing, though, as the moments stretch on, the level of tension cannot be maintained. "Who is the Ancient One?" Carter asks as they wait for a response.

"The Commander spoke of her." Scylla blinks and clarifies for the humans not touched by hivesense, "Todd, as you call him. He did not say so outright, but I believe he is allied with her. If you are allied with him, then you are also with her against the Devourer."

"Great." Carter's face is pinched, as if she is not pleased to be a part of an alliance that she had no control over negotiating- which is a position that Scylla can understand. "Agree to not shoot one Wraith and he brings all his powerful friends to your next party," Carter muses.

Scylla gives her an odd look. "I don't understand," he begins.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter." She gazes out the viewport at the hive and her expression is distant and thoughtful. "Marks, can you get a damage report on the hive?"

"Colonel, it looks like they took fire heavily in the area of their dart bay. I’m still getting the intermittent break in the electromagnetic jamming." Marks hesitates before adding, "I’m also reading human life signs."

"How many?" Carter asks immediately.

"Five," Marks replies.

Before Carter can reply, the commander of the hive speaks.

"We have humans aboard the hive," the commander says. "Humans of the Lantean tribe. We will give them up to you in exchange for the opportunity to join the alliance of the Ancient One."

Carter taps her fingers on her armrest. "Well isn’t that generous. Marks." She turns to the man at her right. "At the next break in the field, beam them directly to medical."

"Yes, ma’am."

Scylla grins; that is a bold move.

"Medical confirms that they have Lieutenant Edison's team, along with Teyla Emmagan."

"Excellent." Carter activates the communicator and says, "Commander, your gift is accepted."

Scylla can feel that his previous commander is not pleased as he replies, "And what gesture will you give in return?"

"We will accept you as members of the alliance," Carter says. "Provisionally." Her expression is thoughtful for a moment before she continues, "You will power down all weapons and we will both proceed to the nearest habitable planet where were will discuss the situation on neutral ground. Standby for coordinates." She motions for the communication to be terminated.

Her eyes settle on Scylla and he bows his head. " Your boldness in retrieving your people was well done. He is displeased that you are powerful. If the hive were not damaged he would challenge you here, but as it is he will attempt to regain what power he has lost when you meet face to face."

Carter nods. "I’m counting on it. How many will he bring?"

Scylla shakes his head. "I do not know. I would think he would bring fighters, but only if he can launch them with the damage sustained. I think he will fill a transport with as many Wraith as the hive can spare; he will want to defeat you, and for many to see it."

Carter nods. Her communicator beeps and she speaks into it, her voice fond, "Teyla. I wasn’t expecting you out here." She listens, then frowns. "If you feel up to it." She smiles at whatever the person on the communicator says.

Carter turns to Scylla. "This commander. Can I trust him?"

"No." Scylla frowns. "If the hive is divided, he is the source. He desires something that the hive does not. He will want an action that will unify the hive in a way that will support his position. Culling is a time-honored way of unifying the hive and he will see your people as a means to his own end."

A woman steps onto the bridge. She is rumpled and smells like hive but appears uninjured, and Scylla assumes this is the Teyla Emmagan who was recently retrieved and spoke with Carter on the earpiece. Her eyes fix on Scylla in sharp warning. "Colonel Carter," she begins in a clipped tone.

"He’s a friendly," Carter replies dryly.

The woman’s eyebrows disappear beneath the hair that covers her forehead in a gesture that Scylla has begun to understand denotes skepticism. "Hmm," is her only comment on that front.

Scylla inclines his head to her. She watches him carefully, and he knows that she is of this galaxy- she does not come from whatever distant world the other humans of this vessel hail from because she _knows_ _what he is_ in a way that one such as Brewster or even Hawkins does not understand. Her watchfulness is not the same fearfulness as the others initially gave him, and which some of the humans still do. She does not fear him as much as she hates him. Her eyes fall on him with a wary distaste, as if she has acknowledged that his presence is accepted here but she refuses to ever be caught off guard by anything he might do.

"Atlantis was concerned by your last report," Emmagan is saying, "and Lieutenant Edison’s team and I were sent to find you." She smiles at Carter. "I am glad you appear to have done better in your situation than your supposed rescuers."

Carter grins. "Scylla gave us a heads up that the hive was on its way here. The damage they’ve undergone let us beam you out through a gap in their usual interference." She rises and steps toward Emmagan. "What happened?"

Emmagan turns a thoughtful look on Scylla before turning back to Carter. "I do not know," she says. "Our vessel was captured early on." She and Carter exchange a look, and Scylla realizes that this report is a lie; Emmagan does not wish to speak freely before him. He narrows his eyes; he would depart but he has not been dismissed. "The hive is strangely disorganized," Emmagan continues. "Some seemed to believe that they were bringing us as a gift for their queen," her lip curls in derision, "but some of the Wraith... disagreed with this idea in a way that I have not before encountered. They recognized me particularly and asked me where the rest of my team was." She frowns. "I would warn you not to trust Wraith, but I hope the words aren't needed."

"They aren't," Carter assures Emmagan, who does not appear to fully believe her. "Take a few minutes, at least," Carter says, resting her hand on Emmagan's shoulder, "and relax. I’ll see you in my office in a bit and we can debrief." Emmagan nods and both women smile before Emmagan departs.

"Colonel," the man seated to the far side of Carter’s chair says. "Engineering reports that the hyperdrive is functioning normally."

Carter looks pleased. "Excellent. Did they say what the issue ended up being?"

"Um, yes, ma'am, but it's over my head."

Carter comes to stand at his shoulder to look down at the report on his screen. She activates her communicator. "Novak, good work on the hyperdrive." She listens for a moment, then smiles. "Well, tell your team good job." She listens again and adds, "I will when I'm done with him." Carter says to the man at the station, "Notify Atlantis that we have a functional hyperdrive, and make sure you forward them the coordinates you send the hive." She stands and walks back over to Scylla.

Scylla had turned to the station nearest him and was trying to access the engineering report, but this station is for calculating star charts and so is confused by his attempt to access internal ship documents. As Carter approaches he turns to face her. He is taller than she, than most of the humans, so he bows his head slightly to affect an attitude of repentance in case she is angry about the engineering report.

Carter looks at him. "Doctor Novak tells me that Doctor Brewster found out what was wrong with the hyperdrive using a program that you developed."

Scylla draws himself up slightly. "I enacted the program shortly before I sensed the hive. I left it under the supervision of Brewster, but as she little understands the procedure I had not thought she was capable of correctly interpreting the results the program delivered."

Carter turns away, an unwilling smirk on her face. "Seriously, never meet McKay," she says under her breath.

Scylla understands this as a rebuke and hastens to add, "I am pleased to have been proven wrong about Brewster, and that she is indeed mastering a field only barely applicable to her chosen area of study, into which she has been cast unprepared. And I am pleased to have contributed to the repair of the vessel."

Carter looks at him for a long moment. "It's for the good of the hive," she says softly, "that the ship functions."

Scylla inclines his head. "For the good of all," he adds, his eyes glancing around to take in the bridge and the personnel there.

"For the good of all," Carter agrees with a smile. "You may return to engineering, or to your quarters as you desire. I’m going to debrief Lieutenant Edison’s team, but I may seek you out before we arrive at the rendezvous if I have any more questions."

Scylla nods. "I will endeavor to provide the information you desire." He pauses, looking out the forward window at the hive one last time before he turns and leaves the bridge.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Carter walks into Engineering, greeting those present. "We've almost arrived at the planet," she says, unnecessarily, as they are all aware of the ship's course. She adds, "Thanks for your help on that project, Doctor," smiling cheerfully at Novak.

Novak smiles back briefly and says only, "I worked with phosphorous isotopes for my practicum, so it was a fun refresher."

Carter indicates Scylla is to follow her as she turns to leave. Brewster grins at him encouragingly as he does so, Sergeant Nichols trailing behind.

 

In the passageway Carter turns to confront Scylla and says, "I've something of a plan for when we meet with the Wraith commander, but I wanted to ask you a few questions about the hive."

Scylla nods his head to indicate he is prepared for her queries.

"The warriors, the commander of the hive tells them what to do and they listen?"

"They are designed to be a queen's tools, but in the absence of a queen, the commander of the hive can command them, yes. Depending on the hive, sometimes other leaders in the hive can as well. Such was not the case in this hive when I last knew it."

Carter nods. "Does your hive have a Stargate?"

Scylla tilts his head. "Stargate? What does this mean?"

"It's a ring of naquadah that produces a stable wormhole, which enables near instantaneous travel between planets. It generates an event horizon that appears almost like a standing pool of water," she explains. "It's been called other things, among them the Portal of the Ancients."

"Ahh," Scylla replies. "Yes, I know this device, but we did not have one on this hive."

"Okay." Carter looks thoughtful but then her eyes rest on him piercingly. "One more question. I know Wraith can heal and survive quite a lot. How much?"

Scylla feels his lip curl and his shoulders tense as his fingers flex. "What dark plans do you make, to ask such a thing?"

She looks back at him calmly. "Do you trust me?" She shakes her head. "Forget I asked that. How about this, where could I put some Wraith for about twenty minutes where they would be incapacitated but not dead?"

Scylla hisses in the back of his throat. "Wraith endurance is much greater than a human's," he allows. "But most things that will kill humans will kill Wraith, eventually."

"How long is 'eventually'?"

The fingers of his right hand are curled, tight and tense. "I cannot think of an environment that would kill Wraith in the time you have specified," he admits grudgingly.

" _Any_ terrestrial environment?" she pushes.

Scylla snarls. "I have not _tested_ this."

Carter steps back. "Thank you for your answers." Her expression smooths into something softer. "I'm sorry, this must sound terrible."

Scylla shakes his head. It sounds as if she is planning a far more extensive and dominating contact than meeting with a single hive. In this moment he wonders if he might have been better served to leave this vessel with the Commander. He had been blinded by his own avarice for information... and by the intrigue of the Commander's idea- of seeking alliance with the humans instead of merely sustenance.

Carter just nods again, not troubled by his lack of reply. "I would like you to be a part of the landing party in case I need some insight as the situation develops."

Scylla is momentarily stunned, but inclines his head in assent.

Carter's expression softens briefly again, but returns to its firmness as she looks past Scylla and says, "Nichols, you're on double shift."

"Yes ma'am," Sergeant Nichols replies.

When Carter leaves, Nichols squints at Scylla. "Are you alright?"

Scylla shakes himself. "I am well."

Nichols snorts. "Try it again, and I'll see if I believe you."                                                                                                

Scylla glares at him but, since the incident merely hours ago when Nichols touched his arm, the soldier has become more difficult to intimidate. "I have never been on a planet before except when I slept within the hive," Scylla admits.

"Wow. That's crazy."

Scylla narrows his eyes, but Nichols raises his open left palm in a peacemaking gesture that Scylla realizes the man has adapted from the similar two-handed gesture preferred by humans to one that more closely resembles a gesture that Scylla himself has used. "I mean, that's so different from my experience. I've lived my whole life on a planet and never been to space until eight months ago."

"That is... very different," Scylla allows. He narrows his eyes; he will not say so in front of Nichols, but he is displeased that Carter has asked him all of these things and then withheld the specifics of her plans from him. Trust is a thing of the right hand; there is potential of both good and ill. While the latter may be more likely, he will grant that the potential of the other is enough that he will place his trust again.

 

* * *

 

 

When the human's transport vessel lands, Scylla steps out onto the planet. The dirt is hard beneath his feet in a way that is different than the unyielding metal plates of the _Daedalus_ ' floors. It gives slightly more in a way that is more reminiscent of a hive, though not truly similar to that either.

"Come on," Nichols says from beside him, and they move off through trees, following Carter's lead. Scylla pauses to rest a hand on one of the trees; though he has never seen one, he has shared memories with Wraith who have hunted on planets so he knows what it is. He hadn't imagined that they would be quite so _tall_ though. The trees obscure the sky, their branches reaching up into the blue expanse. Nichols stops and looks back at him. "No time for sightseeing," he prods, though his voice is gentle.

Scylla nods, and follows Nichols.

They stride quickly through the trees and after some moments catch up to the rest of the party. Carter motions Scylla forward, and he joins her at a place where the land falls sharply away and they can look down at an open area below them where there are no trees. There are, however, Wraith.

"That is the commander of the hive," Scylla says of the Wraith who stands at the edge of the open space. "Standing before him is the Second." Scylla narrows his eyes as he digests this information through hivesense. "This is different from when I was last on the hive. This Wraith... he is not fit to act as Second. This commander has raised him to this position from a personal desire."

Carter has a distance viewing device pressed to her eyes. She smirks. "Favoritism works for us."

"They have brought warriors, as expected," Scylla continues, "and I sense five other Wraith nearby." One of them steps out of the trees and walks toward the commander, and Scylla recognizes him by the brighter green of his skin and his shoulders bared by his tendency to refrain from the usual coat. "That is the Navigator, who acts as third." Scylla shakes his head. "He was Second when I was last on the hive. I can feel also the Flight Leader though you cannot see him yet; between them they are the leaders of the hive. They should not all be away from the hive."

"Ma'am," one of the soldiers addresses Carter.

She turns her attention to him. "Lieutenant Edison."

Edison lowers his own distance viewer from his face. "The last Wraith Scylla pointed out, the Navigator? That's the one I told you about in my debrief." He motions behind him, and Emmagan appears, borrowing his distance viewer.

"Yes," she agrees. "This Wraith does not wear a coat like the others and has a design tattooed on his shoulder. He was the one who seemed most greatly opposed to the commander's decisions." Emmagan looks at Edison. "I believe you called him 'Jeremiah.'"

Carter's eyebrows rise on her forehead. "Biblical."

Edison flushes. "No, ma'am. My sister's a fan of Three Dog Night."

Carter has to take a moment to swallow her laughter. Scylla does not understand, but he will ask Morel-Fatio later for the tale of the numeration of nights and the meaning of "dog." Emmagan looks unimpressed.

Carter contacts Lieutenant Colonel Hocken on the ship to affirm that everything is proceeding correctly, then turns to her soldiers. Carter directs, "Edison take your group around the west side. Teyla, come around this side from the southeast." Carter raises a strange weapon that all of the soldiers have been issued but which Scylla has never seen before. "Everyone, remember your tags; I want all the warriors marked, but try not to get the other Wraith if you can help it." She looks at Scylla and Nichols. "We're going to head down the other side of this ridge and come at them head on."

Scylla nods and when Carter rises he moves to follow her.

 

Carter's group is the smallest of the three, consisting of only six persons in total- Scylla and Nichols, Carter, and three other soldiers. Two of the soldiers range out before and the third falls back with Nichols as rearguard; Scylla is not impressed with human senses but has to admit that they are likely more familiar with this environment than he himself is, though he keeps his senses alert.

The forest seems loud around them, full of the sounds of animals calling out to each other, of the wind and plants moving, and small insects spinning their wings in ways that seem almost like communication. It is very different from the hive, and even from the _Daedalus_ with its mechanical sounds. The sky is so bright, between the trees, and endless.

They come level with the Wraith, but encounter warriors before they reach the clearing where they looked down and saw the hive commander.

The warriors raise stun weapons, and Carter's people raise weapons as well.

But before it can escalate, the warriors lower their weapons. 

Carter looks at Scylla. "It looks like _you_ can tell them what to do," Carter murmurs.

Scylla huffs. "I have told them who we are, and that their commander expects to speak to us. I cannot _command_ them, as the Commander does even with warriors who are not of his hive." He is distracted as they walk forward and only belatedly remembers to add, "I do mean the one you know as Todd."

Carter's lip curls in a smile. "You don't have to always remember to add that," she advises him. "You have a... way of saying ' _Commander_ ' that I recognize means him, and not this other guy we're about to meet."

"The difference is obvious in hivesense. I did not wish to be confusing to those without the ability to discern the subtle nuances of how information is conveyed in this manner, but I am pleased that you are able to retain _some_ of them in the spoken word."

Carter shakes her head, but her curled smile does not diminish.

Behind them, Carter's soldiers raise their unfamiliar weapons and shoot the warriors. The weapon does not appear to do any damage, only smearing them with a sticky, yellow substance. The warriors raise their own weapons in affront at the attack, but Scylla reminds them that they are not harmed and their commander expects the presence of the humans, preferably moving under their own power.

 

When they enter the clearing, the soldiers fan out to either side of Carter. Scylla falls behind her; as the commander of the _Daedalus_ Carter should precede all of the other members of her party.

The Wraith that the humans called "Jeremiah," the Navigator- the one Scylla would consider his only true brother from this hive- reaches out to Scylla's mind.

 _Jeremiah_? the Navigator says, reading the thought that Scylla offers to him. He sounds amused. _I am pleased that they recall me._ He shares thoughts of how he sought to prevent the commander of the hive from taking their lives. _The new Lanteans are odd humans, full of… interesting ways of thinking._ Unable to move against the commander directly, the Navigator had hoped to use them to tip the balance of power in the hive against the commander. He adds, fondly, _You look well, Scylla._

His mental use of the name sits more easily with Scylla than when the commander of the hive had spoken it. _I have missed you,_ Scylla admits. _The Devourer's hive was unpleasant._ Their attention is drawn to the others present and the Navigator does not respond to his admission.

The hive's Second strides out toward Carter. "Who are you?" he demands. "What human thinks to challenge the hive!"

Carter raises her left hand and shoots the Second with her strange weapon. Like the soldier's, it does no damage, but leaves a sticky residue on the Second's coat. The Second halts, his hand going to the yellow smear.

"Stop talking," Carter tells him. She raises her weapon. "Whoever talks out of turn gets the same treatment." She locks eyes with the commander of the hive.

The commander pulls back his lips in a slow sneer. He ignores Carter and turns to look at Scylla. _Do you have what you were sent for?_ he asks.

"I do not serve your hive," Scylla tells him.

The commander hisses, lips pulled back full from his teeth. He stalks over, pacing slowly back and forth before Carter. "What power do you have, to tear a Wraith from his hive?"

Carter folds her arms. "I don't tear anyone from anything," she says mildly, but she is not looking at the commander. She does raise her eyes to him after many moments. "Scylla can answer for himself. Now, you wanted to know more about allying with the Ancient One?"

The Second hisses, but the commander of the hive glares him to silence. "Tell us more about this alliance," the commander says to Carter as if it is a great indulgence he is giving her.

The Navigator steps out suddenly and addresses the commander, "You have no care for the Ancient One!" he cries. "You would use the hive to commit treason against two queens and give deference to none!"

The commander snarls back at him, "If you speak of treason then speak to this Technician, who thinks himself above his place and swears himself to an imaginary queen instead of the one he had already given oath to!"

Scylla feels the tension ripple all down his spine. "I swore no oath to the Devourer," he retorts.

"And did she not swear an oath to us?" the commander hisses. "One that you were poised to help her keep when you failed. Have you succeeded now? Can you tell me where the new feeding ground lies? You did give your obedience to me, Wraith, and you will give it now."

Carter looks at Scylla. She is tense, and he wonders if she thinks he will betray her secrets. He did search for the information, during his time on the _Daedalus_. It was not difficult to find, now that the ship was not locked against him. The only real difficulty was in determining which of the many worlds in the distant galaxy was the one the Devourer had sought. He hadn't looked for _her_ purposes, only to have something else that he could point to and say, _this, this is what I have now and what I did not have when the Devourer was queen_.

Scylla shakes his head at the commander. "I owe you nothing. I decry your hive."                          

The Navigator leans back in alarm. He reaches for Scylla mentally, and Scylla returns the touch.

"Will you give it to me?" The Navigator says abruptly, stepping forward. The commander snarls in affront, but the Navigator turns to meet him with a harsh stare. "Scylla," the Navigator says, the word rolling off his tongue. "Will you give to me the loyalty you will not show to this one?"

"I will give you what this one does not deserve," Scylla says mildly.

The Navigator turns to the other Wraith present. He raises his arms, his voice echoing through the trees and all around, "Do you see that I am more capable of leading this hive to plentiful new horizons than _this_ one?"

The other Wraith present start up a low hissing that reverberates through the clearing. The Second looks worried.

Carter steps back, beside Scylla.

"He challenges, for command," Scylla tells her without her needing to ask.

Carter nods.

"I will not tolerate rebellion in the hive!" The commander of the hive yells. "Warriors, remove this Wraith from the hive!"

The other Wraith hiss sharply, but they do not move to stop the warriors, who move in response to the commander's order to them. Scylla joins in the low hiss. "Coward and weak one," he yells scathingly at the commander. "He must face any challenge without aid or he is not worthy to hold command." This last is mostly an aside to Carter.

Carter nods. She touches her communicator. "Marks, can you take all but the one closest to my 10?"

The warriors who are advancing toward the Navigator all vanish, plucked from the air. The other Wraith are silent a moment in surprise. Scylla notes that all of the warriors bore the yellow stain on their coat that is the mark of Carter's new weapon.

"What treachery-?" the Second exclaims.

Carter raises her strange weapon and points it again at the Second. "Anything else out of you and you'll go the way of your warriors." She looks at the other Wraith, settling her eyes on the commander of the hive. "This one challenged you for leadership of the hive," Carter yells. "Meet him like a Wraith should and we'll see who ends as part of the Ancient One's alliance."

The remaining Wraith snarl among themselves, but one of them calls out tauntingly, "It is a day to abandon the hive when a human lectures Wraith on the ways of Wraith!"

"Why do we tolerate the speaking of the human?" The Second yells. "Let us feed, and be done with this!" He starts forward.

Carter speaks into her communicator, "Marks, take the last one."                                                                              

The Second vanishes in the same manner as the warriors before him.

The commander of the hive looks nervous. The other Wraith stand in a circle, watching him, their hissing faded into a low hum that reverberates between them. To retain control of the hive, there is no course open to the commander but to fight the Navigator.

The Navigator watches his opponent with rapt attention, eager for his chance. He is confident, which earns him much of his advantage as his opponent is more physically imposing.

The commander moves swiftly, striking with his feeding hand in a bid to end the conflict quickly, but the Navigator retaliates just as swiftly. He seizes the hand that strikes at him and, pulling a dagger from his sleeve, sinks the blade into the flesh of the commander's hand, damaging it. The hum of the watching Wraith rises in intensity. Scylla may have decried this hive, but he feels himself drawn into the circle of witnesses, the hum reverberating through him as well.

The commander pulls back with a sharp sound of shocked rage as he examines his hand. He pulls the knife free, his hand trailing blood through the air as he flings himself back at the Navigator. He moves fast enough that he catches the Navigator off guard, and the Navigator stumbles under the weight of the heavier Wraith. They struggle a moment in close quarters, but eventually break apart, the Navigator trailing blood now as well, from a ragged gash that starts on his neck beneath his ear and continues up over onto the side of his face to pass just under his eye. The Navigator snarls silently, and, as he is about to step away from his opponent, he steps back instead, kicking his opponent in the side of his knee and bringing him to the ground. He catches his hand in the commander's long hair as the other hand sinks jagged nails into the flesh of the Wraith's chin, and he twists the former commander's head until his neck snaps with an audible crack.

The hum between the Wraith rises yet again, growing into a full-throated tone as their mouths fall open to give voice to it. The former Navigator, now Commander, rises from his predecessor's body. He looks around him, to see if any other will challenge him. But the other Wraith seem pleased. _You are Commander,_ the Flight Leader says, and the other Wraith echo back, _Commander._

The new Commander turns to Scylla, walking over to him and raising his left hand to rest it on Scylla's shoulder. _Will you swear yourself to_ my _hive, brother?_

Scylla looks down. _I cannot,_ he replies. He had thought he would be regretful, but he feels at peace with his choice.

The other Wraith begin to hiss again. _This Wraith has the location of the feeding ground_ , the Flight Leader grumbles. _Bring him into the hive and we will go there!_

The new Commander turns and snarls at the Flight Leader. _None will be bound in this hive against their desire._ The new Commander rounds from his Wraith and turns back to Scylla. _You said you would give me what you would not give to that one,_ he indicates the former commander, _but if you refuse to be a part of my hive then I know you will refuse to give me the way to the feeding ground._ He meets Carter's gaze and she looks back steadily, though Scylla can see Carter's patience with the silent conversation she is not party to is wearing thin.

Scylla grins. _I_ have _missed you_ , he repeats.

The new Commander grins in return. _Your allies will not wish to give us the feeding ground either, I imagine,_ the new Commander continues. _But it does not concern me. I want the greater prize. The Ancient One._

Scylla sighs. _I cannot say that I have seen her. The Commander I am sworn to spoke of her. I believe he has seen her._

The new Commander nods. _I will give up much to know her, including any claim to the feeding ground the Devourer prizes._ His hand is heavy on Scylla's shoulder for a moment before he withdraws it. He turns to Carter. "Return my warriors," he tells her.

Her eyebrows lift. She looks at Scylla, but before he can give her an indication she speaks. "In the interest of future relations," she allows, "I will choose to do so." Scylla grins at her careful words. Carter touches her communicator. "Marks, send them all back."

The warriors appear, and the former Second. They are all dazed, as if they have spent the last span of minutes in unpleasant conditions, and several of the Warriors drop to their knees before they regain their equilibrium. The Second cries out in sorrow to behold his fallen commander, but whatever anger he holds is suppressed and he bows his head to the new Commander.

The new Commander paces among the newly returned, asserting his new position with them, before returning to Carter. He regards her, his arms folded over his chest. "Scylla tells me that your people call me Jeremiah." He pronounces the name carefully.

Behind Carter, Edison chokes.

Carter just nods. "It's the name of a prophet who spoke words of truth the leaders he followed did not wish to hear," Carter says.

Jeremiah grins. "It is a good title." He inclines his head in acceptance. "I am interested in allying with the Ancient One," he continues, but turns and looks to the Wraith behind him. "But first, my hive is in need of… restoration."

"So we have observed." Carter pauses. "If you will communicate with Scylla any needs you have, I will see if we have supplies that may be of use to you." She meets his eyes challengingly.

Jeremiah's eyes narrow in humor. "I do not think we have need of anything," he replies prudently, "except time for the hive to heal." His lip curls. "And a safe harbor in which to do so." He steps back. "We will return to the hive and seek such a place."

Carter hesitates, but then speaks quickly. "If you are hyperdrive capable," she begins, then looks at Scylla before looking away quickly, returning her gaze to Jeremiah. "Then you can follow us back to Atlantis. We will defend your hive against the Devourer, or any other who would prey upon you."

Jeremiah's expression is open with his shock, and he looks to Scylla. _This is some trap?_

Scylla is surprised by Carter's offer as well. She has continued to hold the upper hand with the hive, with her trick of the weapons that shoot sticky yellow "tags," but he knows that inviting the hive to return to the city with her ship is a gesture that leaves her vulnerable. "If she has said so, she will defend you," he tells Jeremiah.

"As long as you act with integrity toward us and our allies," Carter replies. She glances at Edison. "I have been told that you acted so toward my people before you were in a position in which you could do much. I will expect you to continue in the same."

Jeremiah looks between them. "I will be cursed a fool twice as much as my predecessor," he murmurs. He holds Carter's gaze. "But should we live until the hive regains its full powers then perhaps we will be ready to understand how humans came to be allies of the Ancient One."

"Heal your hive and then meet with our mutual friend," Carter says. "And we'll all go from there."

Jeremiah nods. "We will return to the hive." He turns to Scylla. _You have always been a creature of strange paths_ , Jeremiah says fondly. _Scylla, I hope you will return to this hive when you have completed the quest which sends you forth under another commander, as I will miss you._

 _I do not feel my restoration to this hive happening soon,_ Scylla informs him.

Jeremiah's mental voice is affectionate. _Return, when you wish. I will welcome you, as you are dear to me._

Jeremiah raises his left hand, and this time Scylla raises his as well, resting it on Jeremiah's shoulder. "We will meet at the city of 'Lantis," Jeremiah says. His thoughts rumble with humor; neither of them are old enough to have fought in the war, but Scylla is also amused that they will now journey as invited guests to the city the Wraith could not take by force.

It reminds Scylla of the coordinates of the distant homeworld of the Lanteans, and the feeding the Commander gave to him, and it is added to the list of things he did not have when the Devourer was queen.

Jeremiah turns and departs with the other Wraith, and the warriors, to the transport to return to the hive.

Carter steps up beside Scylla.

"You did well, for a human, at surviving a Wraith power exchange," Scylla tells her. "And successfully maneuvering it to your advantage."

Carter grins, showing many teeth. "Thanks, though I'm not sure I can take the credit. You helped, and I got some pointers from a friend."

She could be speaking of the Commander, though it has been several cycles since he departed and Scylla does not believe that Carter has been in contact with him, but he knows she is speaking of Emmagan. Emmagan knows a lot more than he would have thought that she would about the Wraith. He wonders how she has learned this knowledge.

Carter distracts Scylla, reaching out with her left hand and resting it on Scylla's left shoulder. Scylla stills under her touch, but then he slowly reaches out and rests his hand on her left shoulder, returning the gesture.

Carter grins, a quick gesture. "Just to make sure," she murmurs, "this means you're part of my hive, right?"

"There are many meanings," Scylla says with amusement. "That is one. To reach for another with the off-hand is to recognize that there is a bond between us, like that of brothers."

Carter's expression spreads with amusement. "I'm not much of a 'brother,'" she observes.

He regards her. "You are... an anomaly, in Wraith hierarchy. You are not a queen, and so brother is the closest I can offer."

She nods. "I understand, but it's a shift of terminology for us humans."

"I am interested to explore new terminology with you." Scylla releases her, and she removes her hand as well, turning to face her soldiers that are coming toward her. 

 

* * *

 

 

They return to the _Daedalus_ and Scylla is surprised to realize that he is tired. He has not felt tired for... a long while.

Carter looks at him and seems to understand his state as if they shared hivesense. "You can retire to your quarters," she dismisses him.

Scylla inclines his head to her, but he is not particularly interested in returning to the small, empty box that is the room that has been assigned to him. He feels... disquieted, in some way. He wonders if he _does_ miss his hive- if he misspoke when he told Brewster that he didn't.

The hive is near them, and Scylla reaches out. He touches Jeremiah's thoughts, but the new Commander is busy establishing himself in his position and pressing his new agenda. The mention of the Ancient One holds great sway, but while many are pleased about the change in leadership some need... more convincing. His thoughts brush Scylla's pleasantly, but he does not have time for Scylla's disquiet.

Scylla returns from his mental sojourn to find that Nichols has gone to his rest and has been replaced by Morales. Morales looks at Scylla with a raised eyebrow. Scylla sighs and walks through the ship. He doesn't realize until Morales stops him that he is walking toward engineering.

"You don't need to work," Morales says. "Take some time off. You already work more hours than anyone else here."

Scylla grumbles under his breath. "I do not like it in my 'quarters.' I would rather be in engineering."

"Workaholic," Morales accuses him without heat.

Scylla pulls back his lips in a snarl but manages to keep the expression silent instead of full-throated. "No, I..." He likes the space in engineering. He likes that it is where Brewster is, even that it is where Hawkins it. It is not silent. "I do not want to be alone," he says finally, though it seems a strange complaint. Surely it is an asinine observation. There are hundreds of humans on this vessel and he is the only Wraith. He is already alone; it does not matter in what place he is standing on the vessel. 

But, surprisingly, Morales narrows his eyes as though he comprehends what Scylla means to say. "Will you go to your quarters if you won't be alone there?" Morales asks.

Scylla sighs. Morales will be there, of course. Scylla turns and makes his way to his quarters. He doesn't listen as Morales speaks into his communicator. The words are unfamiliar, though the cadence is similar to the words that Morel-Fatio speaks sometimes.

 

The door of his quarters closes behind him, and Scylla takes the step forward into the room that places him beside the human's sleeping apparatus that they claim is a bed, and almost immediately there is a tapping sound on the door. Scylla turns toward it in interest.

There is a pause, then the door swings open to reveal Brewster standing there. "Hi!" she greets him.

Scylla blinks at her. "You are here," he observes.

She smiles. "Yeah, I guess I am," she says casually. She narrows her eyes at him in appraisal. "You need to sleep," she says pointedly, and adds, "It helps maximize efficiency." She nods sagely.

Scylla feels vaguely that she is making a joke that is possibly at his expense but he is too tired to examine it closely. "Yes, Morales insists that I rest."

Brewster nods. "Is it okay if I sit here?" she asks nonchalantly. She motions to the chair beside the bed.

Scylla looks at her, stunned. "I would appreciate it very much," he admits.

Brewster grins. "Alright!"

Scylla sinks onto the bed, curling into the narrow length of it, his hooded eyes on Brewster.

She sits in the chair, pulling a small device from her pocket and touching it with her fingers. After a moment she picks her feet from the floor and, kicking off her shoes, tucks them onto the corner of Scylla's bed.

He stares at her feet, transfixed.

"Is this okay?" she asks.

Scylla feels his throat move but can't find words.

"Scylla?" Brewster asks worriedly.

"Yes," he says. He breathes in a few more times. "May I-?" he begins, then moves his leg until his shin rests against the bottom of her foot. He inhales a long, slow breath and then releases it.

Brewster smiles. "Yeah," she says softly.

Scylla hadn't thought that he was touch-starved, but his leaning into the feel of Brewster against him, even just such a small touch as this, results in his sudden and immediate relaxation. Maybe he was lying; maybe he does miss _parts_ of the hive. Scylla sighs and curls tighter in the bed, vibrating softly deep in his chest.

"Are you... purring?"

Scylla cracks open one eye. Brewster is holding the flat, squarish device in her hand; she is pointing it at him and there is a light on it that is blinking. "Humming is commonly done to recognize the presence of one's brothers," he says in an aggrieved tone.

Brewster lowers the device in her hand. "Okay." She grins and leans back in the chair where she sits beside the bed, pushing her feet against him and tucking one of them under the weight of his shin. He brings his other leg closer and he feels her shiver as his other leg touches her feet, but she doesn't stop pressing her feet against him.

Scylla dozes. He does not achieve the regenerative sleep that is one way that hivesense is built, but he comes as close as he's quite certain is possible without another Wraith present.  He can tell that Brewster does not sleep, as the device in her hand continues to make soft noises as her fingers move over it.

After some time, the door opens slowly and quietly. The sound still brings Scylla awake all at once, tense at the unfamiliar. Morel-Fatio is standing in the door, smiling sheepishly and holding a container in one hand.

"I didn't mean for it to wake you," Brewster says to Scylla. "I asked Bastien to come. I have to go on shift, and I didn't want you to be alone."

"No, no," Morel-Fatio says. "I have spoken to Colonel Carter and you are not on shift today, Aerin."

"What?" she protests.

Morel-Fatio shrugs and steps into the room. "We are not needed elsewhere," he assures her. "May I join you?" he asks Scylla.

Scylla grunts at them, but he does pull his feet up so that there is more space at the foot of the bed since there is not another chair in the room. He pretends to sleep, but he is listening as the humans arrange themselves. Brewster shifts to the corner of the foot of the bed that is near to the wall and Morel-Fatio sits on the corner nearer the chair, abandoning the chair entirely as a seat and instead setting the container he calls a "picnic basket" there. Scylla can feel both of them, Brewster's feet tucked under his knees and her shins pressed into his leg, and Morel-Fatio's knee pressed against the back of Scylla's leg. He sighs, and he does fall deeply asleep as he listens to them talk softly to each other and explore the contents of the basket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Hoyt Axton, Three Dog Night's song "Joy to the World" begins with the lines: "Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter occurs between chapters 26 and 27 of "Nemo.")

At Carter's request, when the _Daedalus_ arrives above Atlantis Scylla is standing beside her as she prepares to travel to the city.

They are beamed to the surface of the planet by the Asgard technology, and Scylla is struck immediately by the vast difference between this world and the only other planet he has experienced with his own senses. The water is _endless_ , meeting the sky at some point that is far beyond the ability of even Wraith eyes to see properly, and the smell of it is _indescribable_. The air is cool and has a tang of salt that makes the back of his throat itch, and it moves in a way that feels expansive- as if, without the walls of a hive or the tall trees closing it in the air is able to encompass so much more. It is... unnerving.

Scylla is able, after a moment, to pull his attention from the location and give it to the men who are there to receive them. There are three of them and all of them are watching Scylla with wariness. The tallest one has a look about him that almost _dares_ Scylla to step outside of Carter's protection; the man's eyes make Scylla tense, his sensory pits flaring with apprehension.

"Glad to have you back, Colonel Carter," one of the men says as he steps forward. Scylla recognizes his voice from the communications device on the _Daedalus_.

"Thank you, Colonel," Carter replies. She steps forward to meet him, her posture sharp and deferential though not subservient.

The man speaks as if he is continuing a conversation he and Carter have already had, "We've made contact with Sheppard, finally." The man does not sound pleased. "He says he's found a queen that wants to talk about an alliance."

"The Ancient One?" Carter says in surprise.

The man seems shocked by Carter's response. "He didn't say a name."

Carter looks thoughtful. "That's the name that Todd gave to Scylla. If Sheppard met her through Todd, then it's probably the same queen."

"I remember the _last_ time Atlantis tried that route," the man says sourly. "I had something of a front row seat to it in fact."

Carter looks at him levelly. "I think several particulars are different in this case. Including the fact that we have _had_ that previous experience, and won't be caught unawares.

"Colonel, this is Scylla." Carter holds out her hand toward Scylla and he steps forward, his chin rising slightly. "He's the one who figured out the hyperdrive, and I'm hoping he will assist us in providing insight into his fellow Wraith. Scylla, this is Colonel Caldwell. He's the military commander of Atlantis."

Scylla nods, then frowns. "Military commander," he repeats slowly. "Is this like a 'commander'?"

"It's not quite the same," Carter explains. "Atlantis has separate military and civilian leaders. The 'Commander' would be Mister Woolsey. Colonel Caldwell is sort of like the Second, unless there is a military matter, in which case he takes over and is the commander."

Caldwell is watching, his arms folded over his chest and a firm scowl on his face. "And you're explaining all of this to a _Wraith_ because," he murmurs to Carter.

"That is a curious system," Scylla observes. "To have separate commanders in different situations. There is more ambiguity in rank depending on the situation, which is very unlike hive. But you demonstrate perhaps a greater capacity for organization, which is to be expected. The lack of hivesense would impede communication in times of crisis, and therefore an established system would be beneficial." He has observed the combination of 'civilian' and 'military' systems on the _Daedalus_ , but the 'civilians' do not seem to be part of the primary command structure there. Scylla would ask about this, but Caldwell is staring at him.

Scylla waits, in due deference, for Caldwell to speak, but the man continues to stare at him and Scylla feels his lip curl under the scrutiny. "You do not wish me to be here," he says to Caldwell. "I will return to the _Daedalus_ and not trouble your Atlantis." He inclines his head.

"Scylla," Carter reminds him, "I asked you here for a reason." She looks pointedly at Caldwell.

Caldwell snorts, then sighs. "I've heard glowing reports," he says grudgingly. "Apparently you know quite a bit about engineering."

"I enjoy discovering how systems work," Scylla replies guardedly. "Your system is very different from those I have worked on before."

"It's not Wraith made," Caldwell says coldly.

"I have worked on other vessels before," Scylla protests. He falls silent, tilting his chin up slightly.

"What other ships have you worked on, Scylla," Carter asks, her voice gentle but firm.

"A Traveler ship," Scylla tells her. "And, once long ago, a ship belonging to the Fayn."

"Fayn?" Caldwell jumps on the word with all the eagerness of a Wraith newly feeding. "Who is that?"

"The Fayn were a civilization that built starcraft," Scylla tells him warily.

Caldwell looks slightly apoplectic at this response, while Carter looks somewhat amused.

"We can get into that later," Carter reminds them. "I want to land the _Daedalus_ on the East Pier to finish the repairs and facilitate personnel transfer."

"No," Caldwell denies flatly. "I don't like that hive being above us."

"They are unable to launch darts because of the damage they've sustained," Carter replies patiently, "and they're going to be following an oblique orbit that won't take them over Atlantis directly."

"Request still denied." Caldwell's expression is sour. "Look, Sam, I'll let you extend our protection to them, but I'm not going to trust them until they've proven themselves."

"Sir," the third man says, "We have taken precautions against any attacks similar to ones the Wraith have used against us before." He looks at Scylla; it is an evaluative look, but rather than Caldwell, who evaluates a potential threat, this man is evaluating a more nebulous potential.

"Thank you, Major," Carter says. "If I may, Steven, quote your predecessor- what the hell is the point of being out here if we're not going to help people?"

"Wraith aren't people," the tall man breaks in. His eyes haven't left Scylla since he arrived.

"Wraith are Wraith," Scylla hisses. "A Wraith is beholden to none but his hive. If you would know the hive's intentions, you should ask _them_."

"And if I do, they're tell me, truthfully?" Caldwell replies. His gaze is hard and does not seem to expect an answer.

Scylla snarls silently. "If you cannot expect a true answer, then you have no business asking a question."

Caldwell's expression widens in surprise.

Scylla inhales slowly to calm himself. "You should listen closely to what they say and not expect more than what is promised," he says. "Most Wraith will not break a sworn vow, however, many would not consider words spoken to humans as constituting a true vow. I will tell you if the hive speaks disingenuously."

"Will you?" Caldwell asks suspiciously and Scylla snarls.

"Alright, the _Daedalus_ stays in orbit," Carter breaks in. "But _talking_ to the hive would be helpful, I think." She looks at Caldwell expectantly.

Caldwell scowls. "Let's take this inside." He turns and walks away. Carter moves up to walk with him and they talk softly. The Major follows them and Scylla steps in beside him. The tall man trails behind and Scylla can feel the man's eyes on his every movement; this one is like Emmagan, though the hatred within him is sharp where Emmagan's is smooth.

The Major is looking at Scylla sidelong with curiosity and Scylla turns to look back at him. Caught in his perusal the Major narrows his eyes but offers a tight-lipped smile. "So, this isn't your hive?" he asks.

Scylla would have said that he was sworn to the Commander, but Carter has reached out to him and accepted him upon her vessel- as Brewster and Morel-Fatio have acted as his brothers, and also Novak, Chuong, Nichols, and even Morales are part of his hive now- so he claims his allegiance there. "I am sworn to your vessel, the _Daedalus_ ," Scylla replies. "It is my hive."

The Major looks taken aback. The tall man behind them growls deep in his throat and Scylla finds himself unable to refrain from baring his teeth and lifting his hand in threat. He steps away so that he is not walking near the tall man.

"Ronon," the Major chides the tall man.

"You hear him?" The tall man bares his own teeth, the threat heavy in his eyes. "The _Daedalus_ is _his._ "

"It is my hive," Scylla corrects. "I belong to it more than it belongs to me."

The Major looks thoughtful. "It's a symbiosis, I guess? The passengers can't live without the vessel any more than the vessel has a purpose without the passengers."

Scylla tilts his head. "That is not incorrect," he observes. "I had not thought that humans understood this, but if your people are the stewards of the technology that produces such vessels as the _Daedalus_ then perhaps you do understand."

The Major shakes his head. "Our people haven't had starships for very long, but we do have a long cultural history of relationships with sailing vessels. Especially a long time ago, the wellbeing of the ship was all that got a sailor back to his home."

Scylla perks up. "Sailors? Like Odysseus?"

The Major stumbles. "Uh, yeah. I'm surprised you know who that is. Though, I guess they explained where your name comes from?"

"Morel-Fatio has told me several tales of Odysseus," Scylla informs him, "Including the creature on the rock whose name I have claimed, the war of the many commanders before the city of the strong walls, and also of the cleverness of the Queen with the title of Penelope."

They have reached their destination, having stepped inside of the structure of Atlantis. Scylla finds it comfortingly more like the _Daedalus_ than the expansiveness outside, though it is still much more spacious than the ship. The Major takes advantage of their halt to look back at the tall man Ronon and give him a significant look. Ronon replies by scowling viciously and playing with the hilt of his knife.

Caldwell and Carter have overheard them as well. "Doctor Morel-Fatio told you the story of Penelope?" Caldwell repeats.

Scylls inclines his head in assent. When none of the others speaks, he wonders if this was meant to be a summons to repeat the tale to his audience. "Odysseus was a commander who had gone to a distant world to honor his Queen in the battle of the city with strong walls. His queen was known as Penelope, and in his absence she was beset by many commanders who wished to lead her chief hive and be chosen to gift her with young queens. She was much wearied by them, and told them that she could not choose between them until she completed the weaving of a shroud." He takes care to pronounce the unfamiliar word carefully. Morel-Fatio and Brewster had attempted to explain human rituals of honoring the dead, but he was not certain he understood them fully. He did understand that, "She chose this task because the commanders had little understanding of weaving while she was most adept at it. Because she did not wish to choose any of them, or deny them and have them grow more tiresome, she cleverly kept them in perpetual wondering by, while they slept, unweaving the work she had completed that cycle, so that the shroud remained forever unfinished. When Odysseus finally returned, he slew all those who had attempted to take his place, and when he had proven himself the Queen was pleased to receive his seed for her daughters."

The humans are silent for another moment, and Scylla scowls. He is no storyteller, but they are not Wraith to have properly received the Telling in any case.

"Well," Carter says. "That's... I've never wanted to call Daniel quite this badly. I can't believe how the story has changed through being viewed through your own cultural lens, but you haven't lost any of the important parts."

Caldwell is scowling, but the expression seems less entrenched than earlier. "It is worth noting that Wraith are by nature matriarchal," he says. "Definitely a reminder that they think about power differently." He gestures to Carter. "If you would invite this Jeremiah to join us, I have a few things to discuss with Scylla."

Caldwell steps into a room and Scylla follows him. The Major does as well, and also two soldiers. Ronon goes with Carter, for which Scylla does not want to admit he is grateful.

Caldwell stands behind a table, leaning forward over it with his hands placed on the surface. He looks at Scylla.

Scylla ducks his head. He understands that Caldwell is in some way Carter's superior, and thus his superior in the rank of the hive, though he is not certain of how that works entirely, as he has never spent much time under a queen who held multiple hives. He is not certain if the Major is considered his superior as well, but he will endeavor to not be a source of conflict. This is much more difficult without hivesense, and he grudgingly admits to himself that the fact that the humans are able to make their complex society work is admirable.

"What are you doing here?" Caldwell asks him.

Scylla exhales slowly in some confusion. "You asked me to enter this chamber. Colonel Carter asked me to come with her to Atlantis, when I would have remained on the _Daedalus_."

"What are you doing on the _Daedalus_?" Caldwell asks immediately, and Scylla understands the question.

"When the Commander your people call Todd offered an option that was something other than being beholden to an ungrateful queen I chose that option. I remained on the _Daedalus_ when he departed because I am not interested in what other plans he has. I am interested in learning new technology."

Caldwell narrows his eyes. He gestures to the Major, who hands a flat, square device to Scylla. Scylla takes it and looks at it to see that it shows a starchart. "Have you seen this chart before?" Caldwell asks.

Scylla looks up and regards him with narrow eyes. "Yes."

Caldwell inhales sharply. "Do you know what it is?"

"It is your homeworld, in a galaxy you call Milk."

The Major snorts with quick humor, but Caldwell is intent. "Have you shared this information with any other Wraith?"

Scylla meets his gaze. "I have not."

"Why not?"

Scylla leans back. "It is not something you wish to be shared," he says, at something of a loss as to the question.

"But the other Wraith want to know. Why not tell them?'

"Do you wish me to tell them?" Scylla is very confused now. "The Devourer wants very much to know this, but Jeremiah has renounced any claim to information in favor of the chance to meet the Ancient One."

Caldwell looks frustrated, and the Major leans in to say to him, "May I, sir?" Caldwell nods, and the Major asks Scylla, "If someone asked you for this information, who would you feel you should give it to?"

Scylla is still confused. "I cannot think of anyone who would ask for this whom I would tell."

"Let's assume that this chart was destroyed and Colonel Carter asked you to tell her what you remembered of it," The Major says. "Would you tell her?"

Scylla inclines his head. "Yes. She is the commander of the _Daedalus_ and as such is privileged to command whatever information I bear."

"Would you tell Colonel Caldwell?"

Scylla nods again. "I am given to understand that he is Colonel Carter's superior, and therefore mine."

"Would you tell Doctor Novak?"

Scylla thinks. "Yes. She is the section head of engineering, and my superior."

"Would you tell Doctor Brewster?"

Scylla thinks he is beginning to understand the course of the Major's queries. "No, unless my commander requested that I share the information."

The Major shares a look with Caldwell that Scylla can't read. "Would you share the information with me?" the Major asks.

Scylla frowns. "I am unclear as to your rank relative to mine. I do not think I would without Colonel Carter's approval."

"What about my approval?" Caldwell asks. There is interest in his expression.

Scylla bows his head. "Yes."

The Major looks at Caldwell again. "What if I told you that Colonel Caldwell isn't Colonel Carter's direct superior. Would you still share the information?"

Scylla feels his expression tighten in distaste. "I am unfamiliar with such complicated command structures. I would ask Colonel Carter to clarify."

Caldwell scowls thoughtfully. "So, you _would_ tell me anything you know, just because I was Carter's superior?"

Scylla feels his lips pull back from his teeth at Caldwell's tone. "Yes," he allows.

"I would recommend not pushing him, Colonel," the Major says mildly. "He's already sworn off a queen because she pushed him too far."

Caldwell's gaze narrows on Scylla. "So you follow the system but not if it offends you?"

Scylla is lost and confused again. "No Wraith will subject himself to what is counter to his interests!" he snarls. "Hive is paramount, and a Wraith will endure much for the sake of hive, but when a queen is fixated upon things that do not benefit her hive then a Wraith will seek another hive!"

The Major touches the device that holds the starchart. "Doesn't the possibility of feeding without the risk of dying benefit the hive?"

"Not if she destroys it in the seeking," Scylla shoots back.

"Gentlemen," Carter says from the doorway, and Scylla inhales deeply, calmed by her presence. Carter crosses her arms and looks with some annoyance at Caldwell. "Atlantis is having some trouble communicating with the hive, but we patched a relay through the _Daedalus_ and managed to make it work."

"Understood." Caldwell sighs and sinks into a seat behind the table. His eyes rest on Scylla, but they are more thoughtful than accusing now. He makes a gesture to Carter.

Carter turns and beckons, and Jeremiah is escorted in between two guards. His eyes flash at Scylla. _You have been ill-treated,_ he observes.

Scylla shakes his head. _They are... confusing in the ways in which they do things_ , he admits.

"Jeremiah," Caldwell addresses him, "you are the Commander of the hive in orbit above us?"

Jeremiah snarls. "Why have you brought me here? The hive has need of its Commander."

Caldwell draws himself up, affronted. "I want assurance from you that the hive will not attack Atlantis," he says flatly.

Jeremiah scoffs. "You seek meaningless words."

"I seek your sworn word," Caldwell retorts.

Jeremiah leans back, baring his teeth in a quick gesture. "Meaningless," he repeats.

Caldwell turns to Scylla in frustration.

Scylla hisses under his breath and glares at Jeremiah. "If he will not give it lightly," he says reluctantly, "then you can likely trust it when you do receive it."

Jeremiah looks between them and laughs darkly. "You are just as likely to strike at my hive," he reminds Caldwell. "And yet I do not demand words from you."

Caldwell leans back, thoughtful.

Jeremiah looks at Scylla for a moment, then steps toward Caldwell. The guards raise their weapons at him and Scylla tries to suppress an outrages snarl. Caldwell waves them away, and Jeremiah stalks forward until he stands across the table from Caldwell. "My hive is here only because your commander," he indicates Carter, "offered us safe harbor in the shadow of your city. If this one does not speak for you, then I will take my hive and depart." He looks at Caldwell, and bares his teeth slowly. "Unless you destroy us. Will you prove my Wraith correct in calling me foolish to trust the word of a human?"

"Words are only as good as the one who gives them," Caldwell muses. Carter looks angered, but Caldwell continues, "so you should consider Colonel Carter's word as good as gold." He glances at Carter, who seems impressed that he thinks so highly of her.

"Many Wraith will not break a sworn word," Jeremiah muses. "But there are many ways around words that do not break them." His gaze is sharp on Caldwell and Caldwell stares back at him.

The Major clears his throat. "It's in _your_ best interest," he says to Jeremiah, "that the hive makes no move against Atlantis," he leads.

Jeremiah grins, his posture relaxing. "Scylla, tell them what my Second shares with you now," he says.

Scylla scowls, reaching out to the hivesense. "The Second reports that the weapons on the hive do not function. They were damaged before the hive encountered the _Daedalus_."

Carter laughs shortly, and Jeremiah looks at her to share the amusement. "And I was worried you would shoot us first," she muses.

"I was not the Commander at that encounter," Jeremiah reminds them all.

Caldwell exhales. "Alright. You can stay, and we'll offer protection from other hives if they show up." He looks at Carter. "I still want the _Daedalus_ in orbit, for now. The ship's a sitting duck on the ground and if something happens, like another hive showing up, I want it in the air. We can transfer whatever supplies and personnel you need with beaming."

Carter's earlier indignation on this topic appears mollified by this explanation and she nods. "I'd like to request assistance from Atlantis staff to get the remaining systems online and fine-tuned as quickly as possible. My people are spread pretty thin."

"Granted." Caldwell turns back to Jeremiah. "To ensure smooth communication between the hive and Atlantis, I would like one of my people to take a look at your communication systems."

Jeremiah looks surprised, but he inclines his head. "The safe conduct of your people will be guaranteed," he replies, and Scylla is pleased that he does not withhold his promise on this topic.

"They may be able to fix it without journeying to the hive," Caldwell explains, as if wanting to make sure that Jeremiah is aware that when this happens it is not because Caldwell distrusts him, "but thank you." Caldwell's expression is still dissatisfied but he seems to be as pleased with the situation as he will ever be. "You may return to your ships," he says to them all.

 

* * *

 

 

When they return to the _Daedalus_ , Scylla approaches Carter.

"May I speak with you, Colonel Carter?" he asks.

"Of course." She glances around and then leads him to an empty lab; it is, perhaps not by chance, the lab where Carter had secured some of her people when the Devourer first came to take the _Daedalus_. The area on the outside of the door where the Devourer's Wraith had attempted to force their way within has been repaired.

Scylla regards Carter solemnly and she stands facing him. "When the hive is finished regenerating, I..." He pauses, wondering how to best express his concern. "I think I should go with them when they leave."

Carter stands up straighter. "You want to rejoin the hive."

"No!" Scylla looks at her sharply. "You have accepted me, and the _Daedalus_ is my hive for as long as you will have me. But I... I will need to feed, in the coming weeks."

"Are you... Do you need to feed now?" Carter inhales in distaste and her mouth tightens into uncomfortable lines. "In the interest of making this cooperation work in the long-term, as long as we're not getting any life signs readings I've adopted a variation of 'ask no questions.' But you can be transferred to the hive for a time if you have need."

Scylla leans back in surprise. "No, I am well, for now. It will take some time for the hive to regenerate, but when they do leave they will leave to cull, and I should go with them at that time. I wanted to tell you before it happens, so that you do not confuse my need with what I wish."

Carter's expression is still tight with distaste but she nods. "I won't," she promises. Her expression grows thoughtful. "Scylla, how would you feel about not needing to feed?"

He tilts his head in inquiry, not sure what she means.

"Our Doctor Keller has been working on a gene therapy that would remove the need for Wraith to feed."

Scylla thought he had already been surprised enough by the humans, but it would appear not. "That... explains much. Particularly concerning how both the Commander and you believe that relations between Wraith and humans have potential for a future," he says. "It is... intriguing. I find the necessity of feeding bothersome, though not all Wraith think this way."

"Would you be interested in the treatment?"

Scylla perks up. "It is viable? I may not need to leave the _Daedalus_ at all."

Carter frowns in regret. "No, not yet."

"Ah." Scylla thinks for a moment. "I would be interested," he allows.

Carter seems thoughtful still. "Understand, I don't have any other Wraith that seem willing to talk about it, but... You wouldn't view it as something that makes you less of a Wraith?"

"I would not, but I know that some would. There are Wraith who do not view humans as worthwhile of anything other than feeding upon. But I think there are many who have simply not considered the depths of possibility within humanity." He spreads his hands. "I was one such as this. I did not think of humans as worthwhile, but I did not think of them much at all. When the Commander came to the _Daedalus_ he said that there would be no killing of the humans and I thought it was strange at the time. I had not _thought_ on the truth that some of the ships and the marvels I had seen had been created by human thoughts. But now I have given much thought to this and I have come to understand that there is much that can be valued in humans."

Carter smiles and relaxes for the first time since this conversation began. "I'm glad. I'm looking forward to building more common ground between humans and Wraith."

"This will be easier without the need to feed," Scylla observes.

"I know I will definitely appreciate it," Carter replies.

Scylla grins.

 

* * *

 

 

Scylla returns to engineering, only to find it much louder than it had been before. He wonders if Chuong is somehow still present, though he recalls her being remitted to a medical department.

"My God, were you born without a brain? Are you _trying_ to blow the ship up? At least whoever fixed this hyperdrive looks like they knew which end of a screwdriver to _not_ stick in their ear." Scylla hears murmured replies then again, stridently, "Oh, yes, stand there and tell me that I'm wrong when the evidence _clearly_ indicates otherwise! _That's_ a productive use of time."

Scylla steps around the corner into engineering hesitantly. He sees Novak attempting to restrain her amusement and retain an expression of professional calm while a man Scylla does not know berates Hawkins. Scylla grins to see it, and loses his hesitance.

"There you are," Novak says as she sees him, sounding relieved, and also rather mischievous. "Doctor McKay, may I introduce Scylla? He's the one who completed the eliminative diagnostic on the hyperdrive."

The name sounds somewhat familiar, and Scylla steps into the room. McKay is not paying attention and he turns around, turning away from a scowling Hawkins who takes this opportunity to retreat, and finds himself abruptly face to face with Scylla.

Scylla narrows his eyes and lifts his upper lip. "McKay? I have heard this name before."

Having been confronted unexpectedly with Scylla, Doctor McKay inhales sharply and steps back. They were rather much closer to each other than humans tend to be and so Scylla does not begrudge him this retreat, especially when he does not retreat further. "A Wraith is here, in your engineering department," McKay observes, almost under his breath. "That's, that's, fantastic, really, there aren't enough people on this ship already that want to kill me, I-" He stops abruptly and frowns. "You _fixed_ the _hyperdrive_?"

"I designed the diagnostic program," Scylla corrects. "I was not present when the actual repairs took place."

McKay does not appear to be listening. He reaches behind him and grasps one of the flat devices that the 'Lanteans appear to prefer for data transfer and touches the screen of it a few times. "Here." He thrusts it at Scylla and motions impatiently. "Solve the problem."

Scylla gives him an odd look, but bends to examine the device. It presents what appears to be a mock-up of a fusion powered engine. Scylla frowns. "This cannot be solved," he replies.

McKay looks smug. " _Exactly_ , but _why_?"

"Because this engine cannot make use of this fuel source. It would combust without achieving thrust." He narrows his eyes. "Unless combustion is what you intended to achieve?" Humans are very strange.

"Yes, exactly! I mean, no, no, _this_ -" he points demandingly to the tablet device. "This is what I have to put up with."

"Ah." Scylla touches a finger to the device's screen and is amused when he can manipulate it as McKay has done. He reverses some of the components and adjusts the equations accordingly. "If fusion is your goal then this design has a greater potential of achieving desired results."

McKay takes back the tablet and scans it. He scoffs. "Like 2% greater."

Scylla narrows his eyes. "Is not 2% a greater likelihood than none?"

Somewhere behind him Novak attempts to disguise a laugh with a cough. "Doctor McKay," she puts in, "the alignment-"

"Yes, yes," McKay grumbles. He turns his attention to Novak's usual station. He adjusts some of the values in the current readout then returns to his tablet and adjusts something else. "Okay, try it now."

Scylla steps to where he can see Novak's station. "Ah, you are attempting a system-wide recalibration of the measurements standards for specific functionality." The inability to sync atmospheric control measurements throughout the vessel, or to any standard other than basic life support, has been one of the more frustrating remnants from his and Carter's battle to control the ship- excepting the hyperdrive, of course.

McKay pretends to ignore him; he is not actually ignoring Scylla because Scylla can see the muscles in his shoulders tighten when Scylla speaks.

Novak successfully implements the adjustments that McKay has programed, and Scylla notices the changes immediately. The lighting adjusts brightness, increasing incandescence by a slight amount, and the air filtration system beings to warm the air more than it had been before. "Excellent," Scylla says. He is impressed, and he makes no attempt to hide it. "I am not certain how either Colonel Carter or I caused this very frustrating error during our time of confrontation, but seeing it resolved is most gratifying."

McKay preens under his words, then shoots Scylla an unreadable look.  Scylla is not certain what it could mean; the man has gone from fearing him to commiserating with him to challenging his skills within the span of moments. 

"McKay," Carter says over the communications system, "have you calibrated the Wraith system to Atlantis'?"

McKay rolls his eyes and responds through his communicator, "Well, I've _tried_ but there's some interference on their side, which might be the cause of the issue, honestly. It's not the usual jamming; it's like there's," he waves his hand in the air, in search of an apt descriptor, "static, or something, on the system. It's probably from the hive's damage, but the strange part is that they have no trouble communicating with the _Daedalus_ , just Atlantis." He frowns, the particular expression is familiar to Scylla as that of someone frustrated by systems that are not performing as they should. "I wonder if we tried-" McKay muses, then trails off, fingers already typing.

"McKay," Carter's response is exasperated but resigned. "You do know you didn't finish that sentence."

"Hmm," McKay replies vaguely.

Scylla leans in over McKay's shoulder and reads from the tablet. "He is telling Atlantis to reboot the interface with the hive using new frequency connection data," he explains to Carter, then frowns. "I do not think that will work," he points out to McKay. "These calculations," he points to the data that McKay is sharing with whoever his counterpart in Atlantis is on this project, "do not take into account that the organic nature of hive frequencies allows for a fractional degree of fluctuation."

McKay stares at him, too affronted to be concerned that Scylla is standing beside him. " _What_?" he demands.  "How does _this_ -" he jabs furiously at the tablet and then turns it to face Scylla fully, "not work?"

Scylla reads the completed function. His familiarity with the particular system of symbols these humans use is very recently acquired, but he is fairly certain that McKay has adjusted two of the values from the data he had been previously about to send. Scylla only says, "You will need to send the frequency data to the hive as well."

McKay scowls at him but the expression fades. "Right," he says in a more conciliatory tone. "Um, you want to call them up?"

Scylla regards him. He decides that McKay has asked this as an attempt to include Scylla in the process of repair and not because Wraith should contact Wraith, so he says, "Of course." He steps to McKay's side and opens a communications screen to the hive.

He is greeted with the sight of Jeremiah's Second; Scylla did not know this Wraith well before, and has always found him intimidating because of his greater stature. The Second inclines his head to Scylla through the communication screen. "Have you fixed the error that refuses communication between your city and the hive?" he says imperiously.

"Oh, of course it's _our_ error," McKay says under his breath.

Scylla only inclines his head. "Please receive this data," he says aloud for the sake of the humans and sends the hive McKay's equations.

The Second looks down at his screen as he receives it and scowls, but Scylla can feel through hivesense that he is impressed. The Second initiates the system reboot.

"Oh, what's wrong?" McKay says upon seeing the Second's expression. The Second only looks up at him and glares.

"He is impressed by your calculations," Scylla tells McKay.

"Oh," McKay says, sounding surprised. "Well. Thanks." He clears his throat. "So, did it work?"

There pass a handful of moments where the hive attempts to contact Atlantis directly. Scylla turns his attention from the communications screen as Brewster and Morel-Fatio enter engineering, their heads bent together as they speak softly. Scylla is pleased to see them, and Brewster smiles at him warmly as she looks over. Scylla inclines his head, a gesture Morel-Fatio returns.

When Scylla turns his attention to the screen again the Second has been joined by Jeremiah. They are conversing silently.

McKay, unwilling to wait for report, is contacting his counterpart on Atlantis via his tablet. "Radek says it worked." He looks at the screen.

Jeremiah turns to face them and he grins. "We are able to communicate directly with Atlantis," he confirms. Now that the problem is fixed, Jeremiah continues on past this concern and says, "Scylla. There is another matter on which you can assist."

McKay rolls his eyes and sighs. "You're welcome," he mutters. He touches his communicator, seeking Carter, and as he walks away he asks, "Are you done with me now?"

Scylla turns away from this conversation and returns his attention to Jeremiah. _How many I assist?_

Jeremiah's mental voice is somehow both forceful and tentative at the same time. _I wish to have a title for my Second, that the humans recognize._

_I foresee no problem with this,_ Scylla replies. _But why? You take the descriptor as a 'title,' and not as a name in the way the humans understand so I suppose_ I _do not understand why you seek it._

Jeremiah's lip curls away from his teeth. _The humans appreciate things that have names. They name their people and they name their vessels._ He trades a look with his Second.

_If we have names_ , the Second continues, _then we are more real to them. They will see us as individuals, as factions. They will understand better that not all Wraith speak with one voice. We will stand apart from the Devourer._

Scylla is impressed. _That is very well thought. Do you know what name you wish?_

"That is why I have asked you," Jeremiah says aloud, and Novak, standing behind Scylla, startles, swallowing aggressively.

Scylla nods. He looks up, seeking Morel-Fatio.

Everyone in the space was startled by Jeremiah's words after so much silence, and so they are all looking at him. Scylla meets Morel-Fatio's gaze. "Jeremiah's Second wishes to have a name." He curls his lip. "A title," he amends, wondering if he should take the time to explain the difference, or if it truly matters to the humans. They seem to take several names, some more personal than others, and for use within different groups, so perhaps the way that most Wraith understand _titles_ will not be too far from the human concept of _naming_.

Morel-Fatio looks immediately thoughtful. "I… There are simultaneously too many ideas and not enough," he says. "Has he anything, any request or idea, that we may use to narrow a list of possibilities?"

Brewster has drifted over and walks up beside Scylla, looking down at the screen. "Um," she says quietly, but Scylla inclines his head to her. "I was just reading an article about PSR B1257+12 A," she begins in a rush.

"PSR B1257+12 A?" the Second repeats. "This is a very long title," he says thoughtfully.

"Um, no." Brewster blushes. "It's an exoplanet," she tries to explain to Scylla, "something I study in my field. All those numbers and letters, that's the planet's designation, but they call it something else that I think would fit." She hesitates. "They call it Draugr."

Morel-Fatio has come up on Scylla's other side to see the Second and he grins. "That is very fitting," he agrees. He explains, "This word refers also to a revenant, a powerful spirit of the undead, in old Scandinavian tales."

Jeremiah grins, satisfied, and shares a long look and private words with his Second before he turns and departs.

"I will be known as Draugr," the Second says, and he sounds satisfied as well.

Brewster flushes with pleasure that her offer was deemed acceptable, and Scylla leans toward her, humming softly in his chest contentedly. "Well chosen, Aerin," Morel-Fatio congratulates.

Draugr narrows his eyes at Brewster and Morel-Fatio. "What are you titled, humans that Scylla calls hive?" he asks.

Scylla reaches to rest his left hand on Brewster's shoulder. "She is named Doctor Aerin Brewster," he says.

Draugr leans back. "This is also a long title," he muses.

"Humans break them into pieces and use different pieces at different times," Scylla explains. He rests his left hand on Morel-Fatio. "And this is Doctor Sebastien Morel-Fatio."

Draugr nods. He seems about to ask another question when his attention is drawn by something on the hive. "I must see to repairs at this time," he says. "I wish to understand more about names."

Brewster grins. "Whenever you have time," she says brightly. "I think we'll be here for a little while."

Draugr inclines his head, pleased, and disconnects the communication.

Scylla is also pleased. The hive is adding to their understanding of humans, choosing, as he had, to think about the potential of interactions that had previously been little more than a necessity. And if, in the future, there is no more necessity… Scylla is very much interested in what can be built between them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos on this story!!! I was really excited that it was received so nicely while focusing around an original character. I have several ideas for this series, and quite a few of them involve original characters in central roles, so I guess this was also a test run to see if people like stories that don't necessarily follow show characters. I know Scylla is rather exceptional, but I would love to hear what y'all think, if you would rather have stories about show character or original characters? (Not that I _will_ write them, but many times things people say in comments have sparked an idea I hadn't thought of before.) :)


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